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AUTHOR: 


HOLLINGS,  JAMES 

FRANCIS 


TITLE: 


LIFE  OF  MARCUS 
TULLIUS  CICERO 


PLACE: 


LONDON 


DA  TE : 


1839 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 

BIBLIOGRAPHIC  MICROFORM  TARGET 


Master  Negative  # 


Original  Material  as  Filmed  -  Existing  Bibliographic  Record 


,87CB 
H72 


Boilings,  James  Francis,  ^  r?  u  i 

The  life  of  Llarcus  Tullius  Cicero,  by  J^.F.lIol- 

lings..*   London,  printed  for  Thomas  Tegg,  1839. 
xvi,  550  p.   port.   15|  cm. 


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THE    LIFE 


or 


MARCUS    TULLIUS   CICEROy"? 


BY 


J.    F.    HOL LINGS, 


AUTHOR  OK  THE   "  LIFK  OF  GUSTAVUS  ADOLPHUS. 


LONDON: 
PRINTED   FOR  THOMAS  TEGG,  73,  CHEAPSIDE. 


«• 


MDCCCXXXIX. 


^  Ixii'i.'i-  r..Hi.s-L',i  /;.  liicin,'.!  .l"»/U '■//'■"/ ••••/</-:  '''■•>'' 


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uradbury  and  kvans,  printbrs,  vthitkfriars. 


CYflUS  R.  EDMONDS,  ESQ. 
Ctis  Volume 

IS    INSCRIBRD,  WITH    SENTIMENTS    OF    SINCERE    KKSPECT    AND    ESTEEM, 

BY    HIS    OBtlGGD    FRIEND, 


THE  AUTHOR. 


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PREFACE. 


The  Life  of  Cicero,  by  Dr.  Conyers  Middleton,  has 
long  enjoyed  an  extensive  and  well-merited  circulation. 
To  the  classical  scholar,  affordiog,  as  it  does,  a  continued 
commentary  upon  the  text,  in  the  shape  of  copious  notes, 
carefully  transcribed  from  the  works  of  the  Orator,  in 
addition  to  treating  upon  the  minutest  particulars  of  his 
history  then  known,  and  containing  a  mass  of  information 
derived  from  almost  every  available  source  with  respect  to 
the  leading  events  of  his  time,  it  must  always  prove  a 
valuable  aid  towards  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  one  of 
the  most  interesting  periods.    Other  and  no  less  obvious 
merits,  notwithstanding  the  slight  drawback  presented 
in  its  decided  and  extravagant  partiality,  might  easily  be 
specified.     With  all  its  excellences,  however,  it  is  a 
work  more  suited,  from  its  elaborate  character,  to  the 
learned  than  either  to  the  general  reader,   or  to  the 
student  who  may  be  desirous  of  making  himself  acquainted 
with  the  leading  events  in  the  Life  of  Cicero,  without 
possessing  leisure  or  curiosity  sufficient  to  enter  into  the 
more  extensive  field  of  mquiry  presented  by  the  labours 
of  Middleton.     It  has  been  believed,  therefore,  that  a 
work  in  a  somewhat    more    popular   form,  but   still 
conveymg  such  information,  by  means  of  notes  and 
references,  as  might  prove  of  utility  to  those  entering 
upon  this    department    of  ancient  literature,  without 
wearying  his  attention,  would  not  be  unacceptable  to  a 


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PREFACE. 


considerable  part  of  the  reading  public.  The  name  of 
Cicero  himself— and  the  universal  admiration  with  which 
his  genius  has  been  regarded  in  all  ages— the  importance 
of  the  »ra  in  which  he  flourished,  and  the  prominent  part 
enacted  by  him  in  some  of  its  most  striking  scenes, 
appeared  to  bring  his  life  fairly  within  the  range  of  sub- 
jects intended  to  be  illustrated  by  the  eeries  of  works  con- 
stituting the  "  Family  Library." 

In  preparing  the  present  volume,    the  well-known 
history  compOed  by  Fabricius,  and  the  Fasti  Hellenici 
of  Mr.  Fynes  Clinton,  have  been  taken  as  the  best,  as 
well  as  the  most  comprehensive,  guides  for  the  succession 
and   order  of  events.     The  assistance  afforded  by  the 
classical  historians,  and  the  remarks  of  various  commen- 
tators, has  not  been  neglected,  and  it  will  be  seen  that 
the  recent  discoveries  of  Maio  have  furnished  a  few,  by 
no  means  unimportant,  particulars.     At  the  same  time, 
wherever  it    has    been    found    necessary,  the   Life  of 
Cicero  by  Middlcton  has  been  respectfully  consulted,  as 
well  as  the  notes  of  Melmoth  to  his  excellent  translation 
of  Cicero's  Epistles.     So  ample  and  easily  accessible, 
however,  arc  the  materials  for  a  biography  such  as  the 
present,  that  any  credit  on  the  score  of  research  is  entirely 
out  of  the  question.     Nor  does  the  Author,  in  the  least 
degree,  pretend  to  such  a  merit :  his  principal  labour,  in 
this  instance,  has  necessarily  consisted  in  selection,  not  in 
discovery — rather  in  compressing  the  immense  stock  of 
materials  at  hand,  than  in  indulging  the  ambition,  in  his 
case  wholly  unwarrantable,  of  adding  information  which 
the  curiosity  of  the  most  eminent  and  unwearied  scholars 
has  for  ages  failed  to  detect. 

It  remains  but  to  advert  to  the  reasons  for  which  the 
four  orations  known  as  the  Prima  and  Secunda,  Post  Re- 
ditum,  Pro  Domo  Sua,  and  De  Haruspicum  Responsioni- 
bus,  upon  which  so  much  controversial  ingenuity  and  so 
much  amusing  wit  have  been  employed,  have  been  cited 
as  authentic  documents.     It  may  be  remarked,  then,  that 


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PREFACE.  1^ 

unta  the  dazzlmg  commentary  of  Bentley  upon  the 
false  epistles  of  Phalaris  had  excited  in  writers  of  less 
acuteness  the  perilous  ambition  of  following  in  his  track, 
the  genuineness  of  these  speeches  was  never  for  a  moment 
doubted ;  and  that  although  the  learning  of  Markland, 
in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  was  ably  employed 
in  endeavouring  to  destroy  their  authority,  the  judgment 
of  Gesner  was  not  long  afterwards  strenuously  given  m 
their  favour,  and  that  of  Ernesti  so  confidently  esta- 
blished upon  the  same  side  of  the  question,  as  to  ensure 
their  admission,  without  the  least  apparent  scruple,  mto 
his  valuable  edition  of  Cicero's   works.     The  darmg 
scepticism  of  Wolf,  from  which  nothing  seemed  at  one 
time  destined  to  be  sacred,  revived  the  controversy,  but 
invested  it  with  no  greater  degree  of  certainty.     It  is 
true,  mdeed,  that  his  views  have  been  supported  by  some 
of  the  most  able  critics  of  recent  times,  and  among  them 
by   those  whose  judgment  with  respect  to   the   pro- 
ductions of  Cicero  would  be  entitled  to  implicit  deference, 
were  it  unbalanced  by  that  of  others  of  equal  erudition, 
and  possessed  by  a  less  evident  desire  of  innovation. 
But  it  is  equally  true,  on  the  other  hand,  that  Lemaire, 
whose  judicious  remarks  should  be  read  by  all  interested 
in  the  dispute,  has  lately  added  his  name  to  that  of  former 
believers  in  the  authenticity  of  the  doubted  orations.  At 
the  same  time  the  recent  discovery  by  ^hich  the  speech 
for  Marcellus  has  been  vindicated  from  the  suspicion  so 
long  thrown  upon  it,  may  be  considered  a  valuable  com- 
mentary upon  the  confidence  to  be  placed  in  the  specious 
unbelief  of  later  times  when  opposed  to  the  less  dif- 
ficult credence  of  antiquity.     Under  all  circumstances, 
while  the  learned  are  stUl  equally  divided,  and  like  the 
contending  armies  in  some  of  the  campaigns  managed 
accordmg  to  rules  of  war  now  obsolete,  seem,  after  a 
succession  of  skirmishes  and  encounters  more  or  less 
obstmate,  to  be  returning  to  the  same  ground  which 
they  respectively  occupied  at  the  commencement  of  the 


X  PREFACE. 

affray ;  while  the  most  able  editors  among  the  moderns 
severally  discover  and  bear  willing  witness  to  the  too  great 
self-confidence  and  boldness  displayed  by  their  immediate 
predecessors* ;  it  appears  the  safest  as  well  as  most  pru- 
dent course  to  fall  back  upon  authorities  who,  with  far 
better  means  of  pronouncing  upon  the  point  in  question 
than  we  can  possibly  acquire,  and  with  no  inducement  to 
abuse  them  for  the  purpose  of  misleading,  have  left  us 
a  testimony  which,  after  the  lapse  of  so  many  centuries, 
it  must  seem  almost  preposterous  to  attempt  to  shake, 
were  we  provided  with  much  more  formidable  means 
than  those  which  we  really  possess,  for  the  purpose. 

Leicester,  September  4,  1839. 

•  "  Minore  utinam  judicii  volubilitate  et  audaciA  prseditum 
creasset  rerum  domina  natura,"  is  the  wish  of  Orelle,  in  remarking 
upon  the  acknowledged  genius  and  erudition  of  Schutz.  See  the 
Preface  of  the  former. 


> 


ill 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I.  PAGE 

Birth  and  parentage  of  Cicero — His  education  and  early  in- 
dicaiions  of  talent — He  attends  the  lectures  of  the  poet  Archias 
and  applies  to  the  study  of  Poetry— Assumes  the  toga  virilis 

Commences  the  study  of  civil  law — Serves  in  the  Marsic 

War  under  C.  Pompeius  Strabo  and  Cor.  Sylla — Contests 
between  the  latter  general  and  Marius — Cicero  attends  the  lec- 
tures of  Philo  the  Academician  and  Molo  the  Rhetorician — 
Return  of  Sylla  to  Rome  and  proscription  of  the  Marian  party 

First  speech  of  Cicero  in  defence  of  Publius  Quintius — 

Oration  for  Roscius  of  Ameria— Cicero  resolves  upon  visiting 

Greece Arrives  at  Athens — Is  initiated  into  the  Eleusinian 

mysteries— Passes  into  Asia,  and  devotes  himself  to  rhetoric 
—He  returns  to  Rome  after  two  years'  absence— Undertakes 
the  cause  of  Roscius  the  comedian— Is  elected  to  the  quaes- 
torship — His  marriage  with  Terentia  .  •  •       * 

CHAPTER    II. 

Conduct  of  Cicero  in  his  Quaestorship— He  discovers  the 
Tomb  of  Archimedes — Delivers  a  farewell  Oration  at  the 
Expiration  of  his  Office,  to  the  People  of  Lilybseum— He  eni- 
barks  for  Italy,  and  arrives  at  Puteoli— Spends  five  years  m 
pleading  private  Causes — Resolves  to  stand  for  the  iEdileship, 
and  is  returned  to  the  Office— Commencement  of  the  prosecu- 
tion against  Verres— History  of  the  Administration  of  that 
Magistrate— Oration  against  Csecilius- Cicero  sails  a  second 
time  to  Sicily— Returns  to  Rome,  and  delivers  his  first 
Oration  against  Verres,  who  withdraws  into  Banishment- 
He  defends  Marcus  Fonteius  and  Aulus  Cecina— Dedication 
of  the  Capitol  by  Quintus  Catulus  .  '^ 

CHAPTER    III. 

Election  of  Cicero  to  the  Praetorship — His  Impartiality  in  the 
Trial  of  Licinius  Macer— Orations  for  Cluentius  and  Fun- 
danius— Speech  in  Defence  of  the  Manilian  Law— Manilius  is 
impeached  before  Cicero  for  Peculation— First  Letters  to  At- 


27 


xu 


CONTENTS. 


CONTENTS. 


XUl 


PAGE 


ticus — Conspiracy  against  the  Consuls  Torquatus  and  Cotta — 
Oration  of  Cicero  for  Publius  Cornelius — Consulate  of  Lucius 
Julius  Caesar  and  C.  Marciua  Figulus — Cicero  prepares  to  sue 
for  the  Consulship — Meditates  the  Defence  of  Catiline — 
Delivers  his  Oration  "in  Toga  Candid.V — He  is  elected 
Consul — Origin  and  Progress  of  the  Catilinarian  Conspiracy 
— Cicero  defends  Quintus  Gallius     .... 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Consulate  of  Cicero — He  opposes  the  Agrarian  Law  of 
Rullus— Appeases  the  Tumults  in  consequence  of  the  thea- 
trical Law  of  Roscius  Otho — Defends  Rabirius — His  Oration 
**  De  Proscriptorum  Liberis  " — Progress  of  the  Catilinarian 
Conspiracy — The  Senate  assembled  by  Cicero  to  debate  upon 
the  subject — Decree  in  consequence — The  Conspirator  Man- 
lius  sets  out  for  Faesula; — Attempt  to  assassinate  Cicero — He 
assembles  the  Senate  at  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  Stator,  and 
delivers  his  first  Oration  against  Catiline,  who  departs  in 
consequence  from  Rome — Second  Catilinarian  Oration — The 
Praetor  Lentulus  carries  on  the  Conspiracy  in  the  Capital — 
Cicero  undertakes  the  Cause  of  Licinius  Muraena  in  opposition 
to  Cato — Conference  of  the  Conspirators  with  the  Ambas- 
sadors of  the  AUobroges,  who  divulge  the  Plot — Arrest  of 
Lentulus  and  his  Companions — Meeting  of  the  Senate  in  the 
Temple  of  Concord — Third  Catilinarian  Oration— Debate 
respecting  the  punishment  of  the  Conspirators — Speeches  of 
Caesar  and  CatOi^Fourth  Catilinarian  Oration — Execution  of 
Lentulus,  Cethegus,  Statilius,  Gabinius  and  Coeparius — Ho- 
nours conferred  upon  Cicero— His  Vanity — Campaign  against 
Catiline,  who  is  defeated  and  slain  at  the  Battle  of  Pistoria  . 


CHAPTER    V. 

Domestic  Dissensions  at  Rome  between  the  Aristocracy, 
and  the  popular  Party  under  Julius  Caesar  and  the  Tribune 
Metellus — Letter  of  Cicero  to  Pompey — Oration  for  Publius 
Sylla — Cicero  removes  from  his  Residence  on  the  Palatine  Hill 
to  the  House%f  Livius  Drusus — Violation  of  the  Rites  of  the 
Bona  Dea  by  Publius  Clodius — Disputes  occasioned  by  his 
Impeachment — Pompey  returns  from  his  Mithridatic  Expe- 
dition to  Rome — Meeting  in  the  Flaminian  Circus — Trial  of 
ClodiuSf  who  is  acquitted — Evidence  of  Cicero  on  the  occasion 
Speech  for  the  Poet  Archias — Third  Triumph  of  Pompey  . 


50 


I 


84 


I ' 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Consulate  of  Lucius  Afranius  and  Metellus  Celer — Coa- 
lition of  Pompey  with  Clodius — First  Triumvirate — Cha- 
racters of  its  Members — Cicero  composes  in  retirement  his 
History  of  his  Consulship — Julius  Caesar  and  Calpurnius 
Bibulus  returned  Consuls — Agrarian  Law  of  the  former — He 
is  opposed  by  Cato — Adoption  of  Clodius  into  the  Plebeian 
Family  of  Publius  Fonteius — Oration  of  Cicero  for  Flaccus — 
Clodius  elected  Tribune — Decline  of  the  Influence  of  Pompey 
— Caesar  offers  a  Commission  to  Cicero,  as  his  Lieutenant,  in 
the  Gallic  War— Letter  of  Cicero  to  his  Brother  Quintus  in 
Asia — Acts  brought  forward  by  Clodius  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  Tribune%hip — His  Law  against  the  arbitrary  In- 
fliction of  Capital  Punishment  passed  by  an  Assembly  of 
the  People— Distress  of  Cicero — He  applies  for  Protection 
to  Pompey  without  effect,  and  prepares  to  retire  into  Exile — 
Expressions  of  Public  Opinion  in  his  Favour — He  withdraws 
from  Rome  .  ..... 


PAGB 


164 


134 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Cicero  forbidden  to  enter  Sicily  by  the  Prator  Caius  Vir- 

gilius He  receives  Intelligence    at  Vibo  of    the  Decrees 

sanctioning  his  Exile — His  Estates  are  plundered,  and  liis 
House  at  Rome  rased  to  the  ground  by  Clodius — Cato  is 
sent  on  a  Foreign  Commission  to  Cyprus — Cicero  at  Taren- 
tum — He  proceeds  to  Brundusium  and  embarks  for  Kpirus 
— Repairs  to  Thessalonica— Letters  to  Terentia,  and  to  Atti- 
cus — Riots  excited  by  Clodius  at  Rome — His  Attack  upon 
Quintus  Cicero  and  the  Tribunes  in  the  Forum— Milo  arms 
a  Body  of  Gladiators  against  him — Skirmishes  between  the  two 
Parties  -  Decree  of  the  Senate  summoning  all  Freemen  in  the 
Interests  of  Cicero  to  Rome — He  is  recalled— Sets  out  from 
Epirus  and  disembarks  at  Brundusium,  where  he  is  met  by 
his  daughter  Tullia— His  Triumphant  Progress  through  Italy, 
and  Favourable  Reception  at  the  Capital 

CHAPTER    VIII.  « 

Oration  of  Cicero  in  the  Senate  after  his  Return— Tumults 
raised  by  Clodius — Oration  "Pro  Domo  sua" — Attack  of 
Clodius  upon  the  Houses  of  Cicero  and  Milo — Clodius  elected 
iEdile— Speech  of  Cicero  "  De  Rege  Alexandriuo"— Milo 
impeached  by  Clodius  for  illegal  Violence— Cieero  defends 


197 


1 


J 

a  I 
1) 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


Publias  Sextius — Interrogation  against  Vatiniug — Oration 
**  De  Haruspicum  Responsionibus" — Cicero  tears  down  the 
Tablets  in'^the  Capitol,  containing  the  Decree  relating  to  his 
Banishment — Oration  respecting  the  Consular  Provinces — 
Marriage  of  Tullia  and  Crassipes — Speeches  for  Balbus  and 
C«lius — Letter  of  Cicero  to  Lucius  Lucceius— Second  Con- 
sulate of  Pompey  and  Crassus — Oration  of  Cicero  against  Piso 
— His  Letter  to  Marius  respecting  the  Dedication  of  the 
Pompeian  Theatre — Cicero  writes  his  Treatise  "  De  Oratore** 
— Departure  of  Crassus  for  his  Parthian  Expedition 


CHAPTER    IX. 


PAGE 


224 


Consulate  of  Lucius  Domitius  Ahenobarbus  and  Appius 
Claudius  Pulcher — Cicero  commences  his  Treatise  **  De 
Republic^" — Defends  Vatinius  and  Scaurus  —  Orations  for 
Plancius,  Gabinius,  and  Rabirius — Letters  to  Trebatius  and 
Quintus  Cicero,  respecting  the  Britannic  Expedition  of  C»sar 
— Disturbances  at  Rome — Triumph  of  Pontinus  —  Creation 

of  In terreges— Consulate  of  Calvinus  and  Messala Canvass 

of  Milo,  Scipio,  Hypseus,  and  Clodius — Tumults  in  conse- 
quence— Oration  on  the  Debts  of  Milo— Clodius  is  slain  by 
the  Foliowera  of  the  latter  at  Bovillae — Insurrection  at  Rome 
— Pompey  declared  sole  Consul — His  New  Acts — Impeach- 
ment  of  Milo — Oration  of  Cicero  in  his  Defence — Milo  retires 

to  Marseilles — Prosecutions    against  the   Clodian  Faction 

Cicero  composes  his  Dialogue  *' De  Legibus" — He  is  ap- 
pointed to  the  Proconsulship  of  Cilicia,  and  sets  out  for  his 
^«>^nce 263 

CHAPTER   X. 

Jealousies  between  Pompey  and  Caesar — Cicero  at  Athens 
— He  arrives  at  Ephesus,  and  proceeds  to  Laodicea — Disin- 
terestedn^ss  of  Cicero— Invasion  of  Syria  by  the  Parthians, 
who  besiege  Caius  Cassius  in  Antioch — Cicero  encamps  at 
Cybistra — His  Despatch  to  the  Senate,  giving  an  Account  of  his 

Interview  with  Ariobarzanes — His  Operations  at  Amanus 

Letter  to  Atticus — To  the  Senate  and  People — To  Marcus 
Cato — Reply  of  the  latter — Disingenuousness  of  Cicero  with 

respect  to  Appius — His  Justice   towards  the  Salaminians 

Equitable  Character  of  his  Government — Cicero  at  Taraus 

He  prepares  to  return  to  Italy — Lands   at   the   Peiraeus 

Arrives  at  Brundusium,  and  proceeds  towards  Rome         .      307 


'\ 


I 


i 


i\ 


J 


I 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Progress  of  the  Dissensions  between  the  rival  Factions  at 
Rome — The  Consul  Marcellus  delivers  his  Sword  to  Pompey 
— Interview  between  Pompey  and  Cicero — Cicero  enters 
Rome — Ultimate  Decree  of  the  Senate — Flight  of  the  Tri- 
bunes Antony  and  Cassius — Caesar  crosses  the  Rubicon — 
Pompey  withdraws  with  the  Senatorian  Party  from  Rome — 
Alarming  Progress  of  his  Adversaries — Corfinium  besieged— ~ 
Cicero  declines  to  join  Pompey,  who  retreats  to  Brundusium, 
and  embarks  for  Greece — Vacillation  of  Cicero — His  Interview 
"with  Caesar  —  Correspondence  with  Antony  and  Ccelius— 
Cicero  embarks  for  Dyrrachium — His  .nrrival  in  the  Camp 
of  Pompey — Caesar  lands  at  Pharsalus — Is  unsuccessful  in 
his  Attack  upon  Pompey's  Entrenchments,  and  retreats  into 
Thessaly — Battle  of  Pbarsalia — The  Command  of  the  Pom- 
peian Party  offered  to  Cicero,  who  declines  it — Cato  ^Is  to 
Africa — Cicero  returns  to  Brundusium 

CHAPTER   XII. 

Cicero  receives  News  of  the  Death  of  Pompey — The  Party 
of  the  Senate  revives — Cato  and  Labienus  in  Africa — Regret 
of  Cicero  on  Account  of  his  late  Policy — He  is  commanded 
by  Antony  to  leave  Italy — Conduct  of  Quintus  Cicero- 
Arrival  of  Caesar  at  Brundusium — Cicero  sets  out  to  meet 
him— His  Reception — He  returns  to  Rome — Caesar  sets  out 
for  Africa — Treatises  *'  De  Parti tione  Oratories"  and  "  De 
Claris  Oratoribus" — Cicero  divorces  Terentia,  and  marries  his 
second  Wife  Publilia  —  Triumph  of  Caesar — His .  absolute 
Authority — Cicero  composes  his  "  Cato,"  which  is  answered 
by  Caesar — And  his  '*  Orator" — Orations  for  Marcellus  and 
Ligarius — Death  of  Tullia — Cicero  retiffc  to  Astura — Letter 
of  Servius  Sulpicius — Literary  Occupations  of  Cicero— He 
composes  his  "  Hortensius,"   "  Academics,"  and  "  Tusculan 

Disputations" He  divorces  Publilia — Caesar  returns  from  his 

Expedition  to  Spain — Spfeech  for  Deiotarus — Visit  of  Caesar  to 
Cicero— Consulate  of  Caninius  Rebilus 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Preparations  of  Caesar  for  his  Parthian  Expedition — Con- 
spiracy of  Brutus  and  Cassius — Assassination  of  Caesar — Cicero 
joins  the  Conspirators  in  the  Capitol — Apparent  Reconciliation 
of  the  two  Parties — Funeral  of  Caesar — Insurrection  excited 
by  Antony — The  Conspirators  fly  from  Rome — Corres- 
pondence between  Antony  and  Cicero— Octavius  Caesar  arrives 


PAGB 


345 


387 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 


PACK 


in  Italy — He  visits  Cicero — His  Quarrel  with  Antony— Letter 
of  Brutus  and  Cassius — Cicero,  deterred  from  attending  the 
Proceedings  of  the  Senate,  resolves  to  return  to  Greece — 
Council  of  the  Conspirators  at  Antium — Philosophical  Works 
composed  by  Cicero  in  his  retirement — He  embarks  at  Pompeii 
—  Arrives  at  Velia,  and  lands  at  Syracuse — Determines  on 
returning — His  Interview  with  Brutus  at  Velia — He  arrives 
at  Rome — First  Philippic — Reply  of  Antony — Second  Phi- 
lippic  Antony  sets  out  for  Brundueium — Octavius  advances 

upon  Rome — Return  of  Antony — Revolt  of  the  fourth  and 
Martial  Legions — Antony  marches  into  Cisalpine  Gaul — 
Third  and  Fourth  Philippics — Cicero  composes  his  last 
Treatise,  "  De  Officiis "        .  .  .  .  -427 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
Consulate  of  Hirtius  and  Pansa—Fifth,  Sixth,  and  Seventh 
Philippics — Departure  of  the  Ambassadors  of  the  Senate  for 
the  Camp  of  Antony — Eighth  and  Ninth  Philippics— Suc- 
cesses of  Brutus  in  Macedonia — Tenth  Philippic — Death  of 
Caius  Trebonius — Dolabella  declared  a  Public  Enemy.— 
Twelfth  Philippic — General  Posture  of  Affairs  in  the  Pro- 
vinces— The  Consul  Pansa  marches  into  Gaul — Letter  of 
Antony  to  Hirtius  and  Octavius — Lepidus  writes  to  the 
Senate — Thirteenth  Philippic  — Pansa  attempts  to  eflfect  a 
Junction  with  the  army  of  Hirtius — Battle  of  Forum  Gallo- 
rum — Antony  retreats  to  his  Lines  before  Mutina — Four, 
teenth  Philippic — Antony  attacked  in  his  Entrenchments 
and  defeated — Death  of  Hirtius — Antony  raises  the  siege  of 
Mutina,  and  retreats  towards  the  Alps — Successes  of  the  Party 
of  the  Senate  under  Cassius  in  Syria  .  .  • 


\ 


478 


CHAPTER    XV. 

Death  of  the  Consul  Pansa — Coolness  of  Octavius  towards 
the  Cause  of  the  Senate — Letters  of  Marcus  Brutus  and 
Lepidus  to  Cicero — Lepidus  revolts  to  Antony,  and  is  declared 
a  Public  Enemy — Octavius  advances  to  Rome,  and  is  returned 
Consul — Universal  Defection  of  the  Armies  in  the  Western 
Provinces — Second  Triumvirate  and  Proscription  of  the  Re- 
publican Party — Cicero  flies  to  Astura— Death  of  his  Brother 
and  Nephew — He  lands  near  Caieta — Is  overtaken  and. slain 
by  Popilius  Lsenas — Insults  offered  to  his  Remains — Remarks 
on  his  Character — Philosophical  Writings — Correspondence 
and  Eloquence         .  .  •  •  • 


f 


l}\ 


511 


THE 


LIFE    OF    CICERO 


CHAPTER  I. 


I^irth  and  parentage  of  Cicero — His  education  and  early  indications 
of  talent — He  attends  the  lectures  of  the  poet  Archias  and  applies 
to  the  study  of  Poetry — Assumes  the  toga  virilis — Commences 
the  study  of  civil  law — Serves  in  the  Marsic  War  under  C. 
Pompeius  Strabo  and  Cor.  Sylla — Contests  between  the  latter 
general  and  Marius — Cicero  attends  the  lectures  of  Philo  the  Aca- 
demician and  Molo  the  Rhetorician— Return  of  Sylla  to  Rome 
and  proscription  of  the  Marian  party — First  speech  of  Cicero  in 
defence  ofPublius  Quintius — Oration  for  Roscius  of  Ameria^ — 
Cicero  resolves  upon  visiting  Greece— Arrives  at  Athens — Is  ini- 
tiated into  the  Eleusinian  mysteries — Passes  into  Asia,  and  de- 
votes himself  to  rhetoric — He  returns  to  Rome  after  two  yeaiV 
absence — Undertakes  the  cause  of  Roscius  the  comedian — Is 
elected  to  the  quaestorship — His  marriage  with  Terentia. 

The  small  town  of  Arpinum,  in  the  territory  of  the 
Volsci,  has  acquired  a  remarkable  celebrity  in  con- 
nexion with  the  ancient  history  of  Rome,  and  conse- 
quently with  that  of  the  world,  as  the  birthplace  of. 
two  individuals,  both  destined  to  attain  in  after  life  the 
highest  honours  of  the  state  and  a  conspicuous  name 
in  the  annals  of  their  country,  although  by  the  exer- 
cise of  widely  different  qualities.  Here,  amidst  cir- 
cumstances of  poverty  and  obscurity  strangely  con- 
trasting with  the  condition  of  power  which  he 
afterwards  reached,  the  ambitious  and  vindictive 
Marius  entered  upon  an  existence,  whose  tenour  was 


li 


-^ 


2  THE   LIFE    OF   CICERO. 

subsequently  to  be  recorded  in  characters  of  blood. 
Here  also,  about  fifty  years  after  that  event,  six  hun- 
dred and  forty-eight*  from  the  building  of  Rome,  and  a 
hundred  and  six  before  the  Christian  era,  during  the 
consulate  of  Quintus  Servilius  Coepio  and  Caius  Ati- 
lius  Serranus,t  the  birth  of  Marcus  TuUius  Cicero 
conferred  upon  his  native  place  a  claim  to  the  notice 
and  respect  of  posterity,  far  exceeding  that  which  the 
most  splendid  military  achievements  or  the  most  suc- 
cessfully prosecuted  career  of  ambition  could  bestow. 
Whether  the  family  of  Cicero   was  of  mean  or  of 
noble  extraction,  is  a  point  which  has  been  left,  to  a 
certain  extent,  undecided,  by  the  conflicting  statements 
of  his  panegyrists  and  his  calumniators.     The  addi- 
tional lustre  which  the  statements  of  the  latter,  one  of 
whom  even  asserts  that   he  was  the  son  of  a   fuller, 
would,  if  correct,  have  shed  upon  his  memory,  cannot, 
however,  be  claimed   for  him  on  the  best  evidence ; 
which,  certainly  will  not  allow  him   to  be  reckoned 
among  the  number  of  those,  whose  talents  have  been 
exerted  under  the  disadvantages  of  what  is  usually 
termed  inferior  birth,  or  limited  circumstances.     He 
himself  speaks  of  his   father  as  a  person  with  suffi- 
ciently flourishing  means  to  be  able  to  devote  a  consi- 
derable portion  of  his  time  to  literary  pursuits  ;  and 
Plutarch  has  stated,  that  he  was  entitled,  according 
to  common  tradition,  to  claim  a  descent  in  a  direct  line 
from  Tullus  Attius,  one  of  the  most  renowned  of  the 
ancient  Volscian  kings.      The  family  of  his  mother 
Helvia  is  generally  admitted  to  have  been  noble,  and 
her  property  considerable.     His  first  name,  Marcus, 
had  been  borne  both  by  his  father  and  grandfather, 

•  Six  huudred  and  forty-seven,  according  to  the  common  compu- 
tation, which  is  supported  by  the  authority  of  the  Capitoline  Mar- 
bles, The  chronology  of  Varro,  which  is  also  that  of  the  '*  Fasti  Hel- 
lenici,"  has  been  adopted  throughout  the  present  volume. 

t  On  the  third  day  of  the  nones  of  January,  (January  3)  as  he 
himself  states — Ad  Attic,  viii.  5.  Ad  urbem  iii  Nonas  natali  meo. 


:j 


( 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  8 

and  was  therefore,  bestowed  upon  him  as  the  firstborn 
of  a  third  generation  in  compliance  with  accepted  usage. 
The  appellation  of  TuUius,  the  distinguishing  title  of 
his   family,   is   supposed  to   have   had   a   meaning 
analogous  to  "  running  streams  "  or  "  rivers ;"  and  th6 
position  of  their  estate  between  the  Fibrenus   and 
the  Liris,  may,  possibly,  have  given  rise  to  its  adop- 
tion.    The  surname,  Cicero,  derived  from  a  Latin  sub- 
stantive signifying  a  vetch,  (like  those  of  the  Pisones, 
Fabii  and   Lentuli  from   peas,  beans,   and   lentils,) 
may  be  attributed  to  the  skill  shown  by  some  of 
his  forefathers   in  one  particular  branch  of  agricul- 
ture, an  art  which  the  ancients,  as  it  is  well  known, 
considered  among  the   noblest  of  occupations.      Ih 
consequence    of    the  qualification  afforded  by  their 
property,   both  the  father  of  the  orator  and  Cicero 
himself  were  enabled  to  take  rank  with  the  equestrian 
order,   as  the  earlier  heads  of  their  family  had  done 
before  them.  The  prouder  appellation  introductory  to 
it,  that  of  a  Roman  citizen,  was  shared  with  the  rest  of 
the  natives  of  Arpinum ;  on  whom,  after  their  town 
had  been  first  wrested  from  the  Yolsci  by  the  Sam- 
nites,  and,  at  a  later  period,  subdued  by  the  powerful 
arms  to  which  both  these  nations  were  compelled   to 
yield,  the  title,  accompanied  with  an  admission  into 
the  Cornelian  tribe,  was  bestowed,  either  as  a  mark  of 
respect  to  the  general  martial  character  of  the  people, 
or,  as  is  more  probable,  a  bribe  to  ensure  their  future 
submission. 

The  estate  on  which  Cicero  was  born,  has  been 
already  represented  as  being  situated  at  the  conflu- 
ence of  the  Fibrenus  and  Liris ;— the  latter  a  river 
which  has  acquired  an  independent  renown  from  the 
beautiful  description  of  Horace*.  In  bis  philosophi- 
cal  works,  composed  at  a  period  when  the  toils  and 

* rura  quae  Liris  quiet^ 

Mordet  aqu&,  taciturnus  amnis. — Lib.  i.  31. 

b2 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


5 


4  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

anxieties  of  an  active  life  had,  probably,  enhanced  its 
natural  beauties  in  his  eyes,  he  touchingly  alludes  to 
it  with  all  the  interest  which  the  reminiscences  of 
infancy  are  usually  found  to  excite,  and  that  fondness 
instinctive  to  human  nature,  for  scenes,  which  have 
witnessed  what  has  proved  to  most  the  brightest  and 
least  troubled  period  of  their  existence.  The  oak  of 
Arpinum  still  flourishes  in  the  recollection  of  the 
lovers  of  classic  literature,  and  the  grassy  island 
planted  with  poplars,  and  deriving  a  pleasant  fresh- 
ness fii)m  the  streams  which  it  divides,  is  inseparable 
from  our  recollections  of  the  acute  and  polished  dia- 
logue maintained,  whether  in  reality  or  in  Action, 
upon  its  shores.  Near  this  spot  his  infancy  and 
early  childhood  were  spent  under  the  care  of  parents 
who  seem  to  have  been  in  all  respects  qualified  for 
their  important  duties.  As  a  sister  of  his  mother 
was  married  to  C.  Aculeo,  a  wealthy  Roman  of  the 
equestrian  order,  who  was  on  the  most  intimate 
terms  with  the  celebrated  orator  L.  Crassus,  it  was 
afterwards  deemed  advisable  by  his  father  to  remove 
with  him  to  Rome,  where  he  for  some  time  enjoyed 
all  the  advantages  of  education  possessed  by  the  sons 
of  Aculeo ;  being  educated  together  with  his  cousins 
by  masters  who  had  been  recommended  by  Crassus, 
and  upon  a  plan  which  the  orator  himself  had  fur- 
nished»  Plutarch,  with  his  usual  fondness  for  omens, 
has  recorded  a  supernatural  intimation  conveyed 
to  his  nurse,  during  his  childhood,  that  his  future 
career  would  be  attended  with  honours,  which  the 
most  sanguine  among  his  relations  could  hardly 
have  anticipated.  But  a  more  rational  prognostic  of 
his  after  greatness  was  displayed  by  his  rapid  aaid 
astonishing  advances  in  every  department  of  study, 
when  his  father,  for  the  benefit  of  more  public  instruc- 
tion, placed  him  for  a  short  time  in  one  of  the 
larger  schools  of  Rome.     If  his  biographer  is  to  be 


believed,  it  was  then  no  uncommon  occurrence  for 
the   parents   of    the  other   pupils  to   frequent   the 
place  in  which   his  precocious  talents  were  daily  ex- 
hibited, in  order  to  ascertain,  by  actual  observation, 
the  truth  of  the  reports  they  had  heard  respecting 
his  extensive  attainments  and  singular  powers  of  ap- 
prehension and  memory.     His  attention  was  particu- 
larly directed  to  the  acquisition  of  the  Greek  language, 
which  had  become  not  only  a  valuable  accomplish- 
ment but  almost  a  necessary  attainment,  since  the 
establishment  of  the  Roman  power  in  Eastern  Eu- 
rope and  Asia,  to  men  who  might  probably  be  called 
to  fill  official  stations   in  those  countries.     The  poet 
Archias  having  arrived  at  the  house  of  Lucullus  in 
Rome,  when  he  was  about  five  years  of  age,  and  com- 
menced a  course  of  instruction  in  rhetoric  and  general 
literature,  Cicero  was  eventually  placed  under  his 
care,  although  he  states  that  he  was  inclined  to  pre- 
fer the  lessons  of  L.  Plotius,  an  eminent  grammarian 
and  rhetorician,  whose  pupils  were  introduced  to  an 
acquaintance  with  the  arts  he  professed  through  the 
more  popular  medium    of  the  Latin  tongue.     To 
Archias,    with   whom    he   was   afterwards   united 
by  sentiments  of  personal  friendship   and  regard,  he 
has   acknowledged   that   he   was  entirely   indebted 
for  that  acute  perception   of  the  beauties  of  imagi- 
native literature,  and  refined  poetic  taste,  discern- 
ible  throughout  his  writings.     The  pupil  lived   to 
return  the  obligation.     Like  many  other  preceptors, 
Archias  is  remembered  for  little  more  than  his  con- 
nexion with  the  most  distinguished  of  his  scholars, 
and  although,  at  one  time,  eminent  for  compositions 
which  were  admired  and  celebrated  throughout  Asia, 
Greece,  and  Italy,  now  owes  his  principal  fame  to  the 
reflected  light  of  that  imperishable  oration,  in  which 
the  talents  of  the  advocate  were  equalledby  his  disinte- 
restedness, and  the  splendour  of  the  eloquence  by  which 


6  THE    LIFE   OP  CICERO. 

it  was  characterised  was   not  more  striking  than  the 
gratitude  by  which  it  was  prompted  and  adorned. 

Cicero  appears  to  have  continued  under  the  care 
of  Archias  until  his  sixteenth  year,  bestowing  con- 
siderable pains  upon  the  study  of  poetry,  in  which 
he  was  at  all  times  ambitious  of  excelling,  and  to  his 
success  in  the  prosecution  of  which  he  frequently 
alludes,  with  a  complacency  hardly  warranted  by  the 
opinions  entertained  upon  the  subject  by  most  of  the 
critics  who  have  commented  upon  his  writings.  His 
earliest  production  was  entitled  "  Glaucus  Pontius," 
and  was  still  extant  in  the  days  of  Plutarch,  who 
affirms  that  in  consequence  of  this,  and  subsequent 
works  of  equal  merit,  he  was  considered  not  only  the 
greatest  orator,  but  also  the  first  poet  of  Rome.  He 
afterwards  translated  the  "  Phaenomena"  of  Aratus, 
and,  besides  a  poem  called  "Marius,"  which  his  friend 
the  augur  Scaevola  pronounced  to  be  immortal, — thus 
proving  himself  to  be  little  of  an  adept  in-  his  own  pro- 
fession* ; — and  another  entitled  "  Leimon,"  recorded 
the  principal  events  of  his  consulate  in  tlie heroic  mea- 
sure. A  few  fragments  of  these  productions  are  all  by 
which  we  are  now  able  to  judge  of  his  skill  in  metri- 
cal composition,  or  to  form  any  opinion  of  the  justice  of 
the  famous  sarcasm  of  the  Roman  satirist  f,  who, 
however,  probably  intended  his  allusion  to  extend 
no  further  than  to  the  single  line  against  which  it 
was  expressly  directed.  When  compared  with  the 
polished  verse  of  the  Augustan  age,  that  of  Cicero 
certainly  appears  rugged  and  inharmonious;  but  if 
viewed  at  the  same  time  with  that  of  Ennius  and 
other  early  writers,  or  even  with  the  somewhat  more 
melodious  lines  of  his  contemporary  LucretiusJ,  we 

*  Eaque,  ut  ait  Scsevola  de  fratris  mei  Mario,  — 

Canescet  saeclis  innumcrabilibus. — Dk  Lrgibus  I. 
-f  Antoni  gladioa  potuit  contemDere  si  sic 

Omnia  dixisset. — Juv.  X. 
:  Born  A.  U.  C.  659.  Fasti  HeHenici,»ii.  136, 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO.  7 

shall  perhaps  arrive  at  the  opinion,  that,  to  be  equit- 
able, our  censure  must  become  more  general.  By  the 
superior  beauty  and  harmony  of  his  prose  works, 
Cicero,  whose  case  is  far  from  being  without  a  paral- 
lel, has  himself  proved  the  greatest  enemy  to  his  own 
reputation  as  a  poet.  These,  in  consequence  of  the 
mingled  grace  and  purity,  the  beauty  of  the  thoughts, 
and  the  nameless  refinements  for  which  they  are 
remarkable,  must  at  all  times  be  considered  as  the 
best  standard  of  the  Roman  tongue.  On  his  poetry 
no  such  eulogy,  assuredly,  can  be  passed ;  but  it  does 
not,  therefore,  follow,  as  some  have  assumed,  that  it 
was  either  frivolous  or  contemptible. 

The  age  of  sixteen  was  an  important  epoch  in  the 
life  of  a  Roman,  as  it  was  generally  the  period  at 
which  the  "  toga  virilis,"  or  manly  dress,  was  for  the 
first  time  publicly  worn  in  the  Forum,  or  in  other 
words,  at  which  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  enter 
upon  the  active  duties  of  a  citizen.  Cicero  performed 
this  ceremony  in  the  consulate  of  Lucius  Marcus 
Philippus,  and  Sextus  Julius  Caesar,  and  immediately 
attached  liimself  to  the  study  of  the  civil  law  with 
indefatigable  industry.  His  director  and  guide  in 
this  pursuit  was  Quintus  Mutius  Scaevola,  the  Augur, 
an  eminent  pleader  and  statesman,  who  had  honour- 
ably filled  the  consular  office,  as  well  as  most  of  the 
inferior  dignities  of  the  state ;  from  whose  side  he 
describes  himself  as  seldom  having  been  absent  during 
his  daily  attendances  in  the  Forum.  On  the  death  of 
Mutius,  which  happened  about  ten  years  afterwards, 
he  became  the  intimate  friend  as  well  as  the  pupil  of 
his  brother  Quintus  Scaevola,  who  was  also  a  senator 
of  consular  dignity,  then  in  possession  of  the  office  of 
pontifex  or  high-priest,  and  enjoying  a  reputation 
little  inferior  to  that  of  the  augur,  as  a  master  of  the 
intricacies  of  Roman  law.  But  his  attention  was 
not  occupied  by  the  disputes  and  pleadings  of  the 


8  THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO; 

Forum  alone.  During  his  more  leisure  hours,  he 
was  diligently  employed  in  poetical  pursuits,  and  in 
translating  into  Latin  the  most  celebrated  speeches 
of  the  Greek  orators,  and  particularly  those  of 
Demosthenes;  thus  early  endeavouring  to  imbue  him- 
self with  the  spirit  of  the  mighty  Athenian,  whom 
he  always  proposed  to  his  imagination  as  the  model 
of  excellence,  and  whom  the  testimony  of  all  suc- 
ceeding ages  declares  yet  unequalled  in  the  combina- 
tion and  due  arrangement  of  the  various  qualities, 
which  constitute  the  great  and  powerful  speaker. 

Italy  was  at  this  time  convulsed  by  the  Marsic,  or, 
as  it  is  sometimes  called,  the  Social  War,  which  arose 
from  an  almost  general  rebelhon  of  the  inferior  states 
a<yainst  the  people  of  Rome.  The  former  had  long 
been  compelled  to  increase  the  armies  of  their  ambi- 
tious lords  or  allies  with  the  flower  of  their  popula- 
tion, and  justly  complained,  that  while  their  towns 
were  drained  of  their  inhabitants  to  extend  the 
foreign  conquests  of  the  ruling  city,  they  were  stu- 
diously excluded  from  any  participation  in  the 
advantages  enjoyed  by  those  bom  within  its  walls, 
or  included  within  its  municipal  pale.  They,  there- 
fore, demanded  in  return  for  the  important  services 
they  had  rendered,  an  admission  to  the  full  title,  rights, 
and  privileges  of  Roman  citizens ;  and  after  they  had 
been  many  times  flattered  with  the  hope  of  obtaining 
their  wish  by  the  aid  of  the  leaders  of  the  liberal 
party,  and  as  often  disappointed  by  the  intrigues  of 
those  opposed  to  the  measure,  at  leni^th  resolved  upon 
the  ultimate  expedient  of  an  append  to  arms.  The 
war  which  ensued  has  been  but  imperfectly  recorded 
by  the  Roman  historians,  who  were,  doubtless,  un- 
willing to  enter  into  any  lengthened  details  respect- 
ing a  contest  which,  while  it  contiimed,  was  doubt- 
fully maintained,  and  terminated  very  differently  firom 
most    of    those  in   which   the    state    had   hitherto 


I 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  9 

embarked ;  inasmuch  as  the  rights  contended  for  by 
the  allied  cities  were  at  length  reluctantly  yielded  to 
most,  and  finally  to  all ; — the  honour  of  Rome  having 
been  first,  to  save  appearances,  satisfied  by  a  sub- 
mission in  all  probability  but  conditional.  The 
Marsians,  Samnites,  and  Lucanians,  old  and  re- 
doubted enemies,  who  had  lost  nothing  of  their 
ancient  courage,  while  they  had  added  much  to  their 
discipline  by  their  service  beside  the  Roman  legions, 
were  foremost  in  the  ranks  of  the  revolters,  and  more 
than  one  consular  army  was  driven  before  them  in  a 
contest,  which  gave  ample  exercise  to  the  talents  of 
Sylla,  Marius,  and  Pompeius  Strabo,  the  father  of 
the  celebrated  Pompey,  and  during  which,  although 
it  raged  but  for  two  years,  no  less  than  three  hun- 
dred thousand  men  are  said  to  have  perished  on  the 
field  of  battle. 

Cicero  was  an  eye-witness  to  some  of  the  principal 
events  of  the  Marsic  war ;  since,  although  he  at  no 
time  entertained  much  inclination  for  a  military  life, 
the  custom  of  his  nation  almost  imperatively  required 
him  to  have  made  some  essay  in  arms,  before  fully  em- 
barking in  those  pursuits  more  congenial  both  to  his 
intellectual  and  moral  temperament,  which  he  had  se- 
lected as  his  road  to  the  civic  honours,  hitherto  almost 
exclusively  sought  by  eminence  in  the  armies  of  the 
republic.  He  accordingly  served  for  some  months 
as  a  volunteer,  first  under  the  orders  of  Cn.  Pompeius 
Strabo,  and  subsequently  in  the  camp  of  Sylla;  and 
has  recorded  his  presence  at  a  conference  between  the 
former  general  and  the  Samnite  leader,  Yettius 
Scato,  (by  whom  the  Consul  Rutilius  had  been  de- 
feated in  the  preceding  year,)  when,  on  being 
asked  by  the  brother  of  Pompey,  with  whom  he  had 
once  been  on  terms  of  intimacy,  by  what  title  he 
wished  to  be  saluted,  the  Samnite  uttered  the  well 
known  courteous  reply,  "  As  your  friend  by  choice — 


10 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


your  enemy  by  necessity  alone  *."  He  was  also  in 
close  attendance  upon  Sylla,  when  that  chief,  encou- 
raged by  the  advice  of  the  hanispex  Posthumius, 
stormed  the  strong  camp  of  the  Saranites  beneath  the 
waUs  of  the  town  of  Nola  f .  But  there  is  little  doubt 
that  he  was  not  slow  in  seizing  an  early  opportunity  of 
retiring  from  the  scenes  oftumult  and  mortal  contention, 
to  his  favourite  pursuits.  Before  the  conclusion  of  the 
Marsic  war,  he  seems  to  have  become  once  more  a 
constant  frequenter  of  the  Forum,  earnestly  studying 
the  style  and  address  of  the  principal  orators  of  the 
time,  and  especially  that  of  the  tribune  Sulpicius, 
then  famous  for  his  eloquence  and  advocacy  of  the 
interests  of  Marius;  and  subsequently  for  his  un- 
timely death  in  the  struggle  which  ended  in  the  exile 
of  his  patron. 

The  seeds,  indeed,  which  gave  birth  to  that 
frightful  civil  contention,  as  yet  unsurpassed  in 
atrocity  by  the  darkest  annals  of  civil  discord,  after 
having  long  been  ripening,  were  now  on  the  point 
of  producing  the  terrible  series  of  convulsions  by 
which  Italy  was  shaken  to  its  centre,  and  the  freedom 
of  Rome,  if  not  irrecoverably  lost,  paralysed  as  by 
the  first  stroke  of  a  disease  which  may  be  lingering 
in  duration,  but  must  ultimately  prove  mortal.  The 
Mithridatic  war  had  become  serious  enough  to  call 
for  the  conduct  of  the  most  able  commander  in  the 
service  of  the  republic,  and  the  post  of  honour  was 
an  object  of  fierce  dispute  between  the  partisans  of 
the  equally  sanguinary  and  tyrannical  leaders  of  the 
popular  and  aristocratic  factions  in  Rome.  The  first 
appointment  of  Sylla  to  the  command  was  revoked 
by  the  exertions  of  Sulpicius  in  favour  of  Marius ;  but 
the  return  to  the  city  of  the  former,  at  the  head  of 
his  legions,  who  had  not  yet  embarked  for  Asia, 


♦  PhiUpp.  xii.  12. 


t  De  Divinatione,  I.  33. 


}S 


f 


./ 


% 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO.  11 

produced  an  almost  immediate  dispersion  of  his  op- 
ponents, and  the  hasty  flight  of  their  leader ;— whose 
concealment  in  the  marshes  of  Mintumse,  and 
striking  comment  pronounced  upon  the  emptiness 
and  vanity  of  human  ambition  over  the  ruins  of 
Carthage,  as  consequences  of  this  retreat,  must  be 
fresh  in  the  recollection  of  every  reader.  While  the 
civil  tempest  was  thus,  for  a  shoi-t  time,  allayed, 
Cicero  still  continued  in  Rome,  blending  his  legal 
studies  with  the  less  severe  pursuit  of  philosophy. 
Philo,  a  pupil  of  Clitomachus,  and  one  of  the  most 
successful  advocates  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Academy, 
having  fled  from  Asia  into  Italy,  from  fear  of  the 
cruelties  of  Mithridates,  and  opened  a  school  at  Rome, 
was  soon  attended  by  a  numerous  crowd  of  auditors, 
and,  among  others,  by  Cicero;  although  apparently 
without  his  imbibing  many  of  the  opinions  of  the 
philosopher,  since  he  was  strongly  attached  in  early 
life  to  the  tenets  of  the  sect  of  Epicurus,  into  which 
he  had  been  inducted  by  Phaedrus,  the  first  of  bis 
preceptors  in  studies  of  this  nature  *. 

But  the  tranquillity  which  allowed  the  city  leisure 
to  discuss  or  listen  to  the  doctrines  of  such  teachers  or 
their  opponents,  was  of  no  continued  duration.  In  a 
few  months  the  consuls,  Octavius  and  Cinna,  having 
passed  from  secret  jealousy  and  enmity  to  open  dis- 
sension, Cinna  was  driven  by  force  from  the  city, 
and  immediately  levying  an  army  against  his  colleague, 
sent  an  invitation  to  Marius  to  return  to  Italy  to 
take  its  command.  His  summons  was  obeyed 
without  hesitation,  and  after  the  two  generals  had 
proved  completely  successful  in  their  first  operations, 
and  for  some  time  closely  blockaded  Rome  from 
the   hill   of  the   Janiculum,   the  terrified   citizens, 


-a  Phaedro,qui  nobis  cum  pueri  essemus  valde  utphiloaophug 


probabatur.— (Ad  Div.  xiii.  1.)  He  afterwai-da  attended  the  lecture* 
of  the  same  philosopher  at  Athens. 


If  THE   LIPB   OP   CICERO. 

after  the  death  of  Octavius,  who  was  openly 
murdered  by  the  emissaries  of  Cinna,  at  length  passed 
a  law  to  repeal  the  sentence  by  which  Marius  had 
been  driven  into  exile,  and  threw  open  their  gates  to 
receive  him.  The  horrors  of  proscription  immediately 
ensued.  Every  partisan  of  Sylla,  who  was  possessed 
of  sufficient  riches  to  excite  the  cupidity  of  the  victo- 
rious faction,  or  who  had  displayed  enough  of  zeal  in 
his  cause  to  have  made  him  a  marked  object  of 
resentment,  was  at  once  mercilessly  put  to  death. 
The  streets  of  Rome  flowed  with  the  blood  of  its 
most  distinguished  inhabitants ;  the  hand  of  the 
slave  was  armed  against  the  life  of  his  master ;  that 
of  the  son  against  his  parent,  and  the  public  roads 
were  crowded  with  terrified  fugitives  seeking  a  place 
of  refuge,  or  with  assassins  following  eagerly  upon 
the  traces  of  their  flight.  In  the  course  of  this  pro- 
tracted massacre  Quintus  Catulus,  the  colleague  of 
Marius  in  his  glorious  campaign  against  the  Cimbri, 
with  many  senators,  and  several  individuals  of  prae- 
torian together  with  some  of  consular  rank,  met  with 
an  untimely  ""death.  The  celebrated  orator  Marcus 
Ai.tonius,  the  grandfather  of  the  voluptuous  and 
sanouinary  triumvir,  who  had  been  doomed  by  the 
enmity  of  Cinna,  was  also  among  the  number  of  the 
slain.  Cicero  (whose  own  escape,  as  an  adherent  of 
Sylla,  is  somewhat  remarkable)  may  easily  be 
supposed  to  have  been  a  spectator  when  the  head 
of  this  eminent  statesman  was  exposed  to  the  popu- 
lace from  the  Rostra.  At  such  an  hour,  while 
his  ardent  and  ambitious  spirit  was  fired  by  the  bright 
course  of  honour  before  him,  the  shadow  of  presenti- 
ment was  little  likely  to  overcast  his  imagination,  or 
the  thought  to  intrude  itself,  that,  after  a  similar 
career  of  distinction  on  his  own  part  with  that 
pursued  by  the  illustrious  individual  whose  remains 
were  presented  as  a  ghastly  spectacle  before  him,  the 


TttB   LIPB   OP   CICERO. 


13 


'i 


'/■ 


% 


same  terrible  method  of  indicating  the  fate  which 
had  befallen  himself,  should  one  day  attract  the  horror 
and  amazement  of  the  gazing  multitude  of  Rome. 

During  the  short  period  of  comparative  quiet 
which  followed  the  return  of  Marius,  the  attention  of 
Cicero  continued  engrossed  with  legal  and  lite- 
rary studies.  His  own  account  of  the  manner  in 
which  every  faculty  of  his  mind  was  constantly 
devoted  to  the  acquisition  of  excellence  as  a  pleader, 
is  a  remarkable  lesson  of  unremitting  and  unwearied 
industry.  He  had  now  an  opportunity,  of  which  he 
eagerly  availed  himself,  of  hearing  Milo  the  Rhodian, 
the  most  esteemed  teacher  of  eloquence  of  the  time, 
and  under  the  influence  of  his  addresses  began  the 
earliest  of  his  original  works,  his  Treatise  on  Rheto- 
rical Invention.  Without  any  direct  reference  to 
this,  which  he  probably  considered  as  but  an  amuse- 
ment during  the  intervals  of  more  severe  exertion,  he 
has  given  the  following  description  of  his  occupations 
during  the  period  in  question,  in  his  treatise,  composed 
long  afterwards,  upon  Illustrious  Orators :  "  For  the 
space  of  three  years  the  city  continued  free  from  civil 
convulsions,  at  which  time,  in  consequence  of  the 
death,  departure,  or  exile  of  our  best  speakers, — for 
even  Marcus  Crassus  and  the  two  Lentuli,  young  as 
they  were,  had  withdrawn  themselves, — Hortensius 
enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  able  pleader; 
Antistius  continued  to  rise  daily  in  public  estima- 
tion ;  Piso  spoke  frequently ;  Pomponius  less  often ; 
Carbo  but  rarely,  and  Philippus  merely  on  one  or 
two  occasions,  I,  for  my  part,  during  the  whole 
time,  was  employed  night  and  day  in  the  diligent 
prosecution  of  studies  of  every  description.  I  was 
then  under  the  direction  of  Diodotus  the  stoic, — who, 
after  a  long  residence  with  me,  and  an  intercourse  of 
the  closest  kind,  lately  died  under  my  roof, — by  whom 
I  was  exercised  as  well  in  other  branches  of  learning 


i 


14 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


as  most  carefully  in  the  dialectic  art,  which  may  be 
considered  as  it  were  a  more  close  and  comprehensive 
kind  of  eloquence,  and  without  which  you  yourself, 
Brutus,  have  come  to  the  decided  opinion,  that  you 
could  never  have  acquired  that  happy  style  of  elocu- 
tion, which  is  esteemed  as  a  free  and  unfettered 
loffic.     Yet  to  this  tutor,  and  to  his  many  and  diver- 


sified subjects  of  instruction,  I  was  still  not  so  much 
devoted  as  to  suflPer  a  single  day  to  pass  by  without 
its  usual  oratorical  exercises.     I  therefore  declaimed 
continually  on  given  subjects  with  Marcus  Piso    or 
Quintus  Pompeius,  or  some  other  friend,  sometimes 
in    Latin,  but   more    often   in    Greek ;  either  influ- 
enced by  this  reason,  that  the  Greek  language,  by 
which  we  are  supplied  with  a  greater  scope  of  orna- 
ment, gives,  by  being  frequently  spoken,  a  similar 
excellence  to  our  Latin  discourse  ;  or  because  it  was 
only  by  using  their  tongue  that  I  could  either  be 
instructed  or  corrected  by  the  Greeks,  those  best  of 
all  teachers*."     This  passage  is  one  from  which  the 
man  of  genius  may  learn  humility,    and   the   less 
splendidly  endowed  confidence.  If  it  gives  additional 
confirmation  to  the  general  truism,  that  the  brightest 
talents  must  prove  of  little  comparative  use  without 
earnest  and  frequent  cultivation,  it  points  out,  at  the 
same  time,  the  very  large  share  which  industry  and 
practice  bore  in  the  production  of  those  masterly  ora- 
tions of  Cicero,  which,  in  common  with  others  of  the 
most  eminent  speakers,  may  have  been  too  often  re- 
garded as  the  mere  results  of  a  natural  aptitude  or 
intensity  of  feeling,  drawing  all  its  powers  of  rich  and 
varied  expression  from  the  impulse  of  the  moment. 

The  return  of  Sylla  to  Italy  from  the  Mithri- 
datic  war,  in  the  year  of  the  city  six  hundred  and 
seventy-one,  renewed,  with  increased  violence  and 
horrors,  the  contention  between  the  aristocratic  and 


*  De  Claris  Oratoribus,  cap.  xc. 


THE   LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


15 


1/ 


f 


popular  factions.  The  fonner  were  now  in  their 
turn  victorious.  The  consuls,  Norbanus  and  Marius 
the  younger,  were  completely  defeated  in  the  first  en- 
gagement, and  this  advantage  proved  only  an  omen 
of  the  singular  train  of  successes  which  followed  it. 
In  every  quarter  the  Marian  leaders  were  routed  by 
the  lieutenants  of  Sylla,  and  that  general  having,  in 
a  last  and  desperate  engagement,  dispersed  the  army 
of  the  Samnite  Telesinus,  who  encountered  him  almost 
at  the  gates  of  Rome,  approached  the  city  in  triumph. 
The  cruelties  exercised  a  short  time  before  by  the  fol- 
lowers of  Marius  upon  their  adversaries,  were  nowre- 
paid  in  a  similar  manner,  but  with  a  dreadful  increase 
in  the  number  of  victims;  including  both  those  who 
had  deserved  the  resentment  of  the  conqueror,  and  an 
immense  crowd  of  innocent  persons,  whose  property, 
as  in  the  former  proscription,  was  a  sufficient 
crime  to  ensure  their  destruction.  At  the  instant  of 
the  entrance  of  Sylla  into  Rome,  six  thousand  pri- 
soners were  massacred  at  once,  and  many  more  sa- 
crificed by  his  soldiers,  before  he  condescended  to  set 
a ,  limit  to  their  fury  by  a  particular  proscription. 
His  first  list  of  the  proscribed  contained  eighty  names, 
his  second  two  hundred  and  twenty,  and  his  third  as 
many  more.  Carbo,  the  brother  of  the  consul,  and 
Publius  Antistius,  the  father-in-law  of  Pompey,  both 
orators  of  the  highest  reputation,  fell  amidst  the  gene- 
ral massacre,  and  the  pontifex  Maximus,  Quintus 
Scaevola,  the  aged  friend  and  preceptor  of  Cicero, 
was  barbarously  murdered  in  the  very  vestibule 
of  the  temple  of  Vesta.  The  life  of  the  latter  was 
indeed  in  no  respect  endangered  by  the  return  of 
Sylla  to  Italy,  but  this  event  is  by  no  means  to  be 
passed  over  in  his  history;  if  for  no  other  reason,  as 
one  in  which  three  individuals,  afterwards  intimately 
connected  with  his  fortunes,  were  deeply  though  dif- 
ferently concerned.     Marcus  Crassus  and  Pompey, 


>6  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

two  of  the  members  of  the  first  triumvirate,  were 
both  entrusted  with  armies  levied  to  maintain  the 
cause  of  the  Dictator  and  actively  employed  in  his 
service.  The  third,  and  afterwards  the  most  cele- 
brated in  this  eventful  coalition,  C.  Julius  Caesar,  as 
one  of  the  Marian  faction,  was  saved  from  the  resent- 
ment of  Sylla  with  the  utmost  difficulty,  and  it  was 
not  until  he  had  been  wearied  out  by  the  intercessions 
of  some  of  the  most  respectable  of  his  own  followers, 
that  the  tyrant,  with  a  reluctance  which  he  openly 
expressed,  consented  to  preserve  from  the  sword  of 
his  executioners  a  life,  of  the  future  character  of 
which  he  seems  to  have  had  a  full  and  distinct  con- 
ception ;  since  he  granted  the  pardon  of  Caesar  with 
the  memorable  observation,  that,  in  so  doing,  he  had 
preserved  from  destruction  one  who  contained  within 
him  the  seeds  of  many  a  Marius. 

The  despotism  of  Sylla,  frightful  and  oppressive  as 
it  in  the  first  instance  proved,  produced,  by  the  very 
severity  by  which  it  was  attended,  one  good  effect ; 
since  the  opposite  party  were  so  effectually  dis- 
mayed by  the  power  and  fierceness  of  their  terrible 
enemy,  as  to  be  little  inclined  to  provoke  him  by 
continuing  a  useless  show  of  resistance.  The  state 
was,  therefore,  in  a  singularly  short  time  restored 
to  tranquillity,  and  the  Forum  of  Rome  once  more 
crowded  with  pleaders,  who  had  long  absented  them- 
selves from  it,  either  from  a  regard  to  their  own  per- 
sonal safety,  or  from  an  anticipation,  which  seems  to 
have  been  almost  general,  that  the  civil  constitution  was 
on  the  point  of  being  totally  disorganised  and  laid  in 
ruins  by  the  prevalent  tumults  and  excesses.  It  was 
now  that  Cicero,  who  had  hitherto  attended  the 
coiuiis  of  justice  as  a  spectator  and  student  of  the 
merits  of  causes,  began  at  length  to  acquaint  him- 
self beforehand  with  their  leading  points,  for  the 
purpose  of  appearing  in  the  character  of  an  advocate. 


THE   LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


17 


'  \ 


\\ 


i 


It  may  be  reasonably  supposed  that  he  had,  in  some 
measure,  distinguished  himself  in  this  capacity  before 
the  delivery  of  his  first  recorded  oration,  which,  on 
the  best  evidence,  seems  to  have  been  his  speech  in 
behalf  of  Publius  Quintius,  pronounced  in  the  pre- 
sence of  C.  Aquillius  Gallus  and  three  assessors,  in 
the  year  of  Rome  six  hundred  and  seventy -three,  and 
consequently  in  the  twenty-sixth  year  of  his  age. 
The  cause  was  one  of  some  intricacy,  and  had  excited 
considerable  interest,  especially  as  Hortensius,  then 
considered  the  first  pleader  in  Rome,  was  engaged  in 
behalf  of  the  plaintiff  S.  Naevius.  The  latter  had 
brought  an  action  against  P.  Quintius  as  next  of  kin, 
upon  a  partnership  account  with  his  brother  Cains, 
lately  deceased,  and  either  by  the  neglect  of  the  de- 
fendant in  appearing  to  his  recognisance,  or  by  false 
representations  to  the  praetor  Burrienus,  had  obtained 
judgment  against  the  property  of  Quintius,  which, 
after  being  thirty  days  in  possession  of  it,  he  prO' 
ceeded  to  advertise  for  sale.  The  auction  was  pre- 
vented by  Alphenus,  the  friend  of  Quintius,  who 
applied  to  the  prsetor  Dolabella  for  a  writ  to  stay 
further  proceedings  until  the  return  of  Quintius,  who 
was  then  absent  in  Gaul.  The  order,  after  an  appeal 
had  been  made  to  the  tribunes  upon  the  subject, 
was  granted  on  recognisances,  and  the  dispute  re- 
mained in  abeyance  until  some  -months  after  the 
return  of  Quintius  to  Rome,  when  it  was  renewed  by 
Naevius,  and  at  length  brought  to  formal  trial,  before 
commissioners  appointed  by  Dolabella  to  hear  both 
parties  by  their  advocates  and  to  pronounce  final 
judgment.  The  readiness  with  which  Cicero  under- 
took the  cause  of  the  defendant,  and  the  zeal  which 
he  displayed  in  its  support,  while  Naevius,  in  addition 
to  the  aid  received  from  Hortensius,  was  known  to  be 
countenanced  by  most  of  the  magistracy,  was  his  first 
step  to  popular  favour.     But  his  defence  of  Quintius 


IB  THE   LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

was  completely  thrown  into  the  shade  the  following 
year  by  the  oration,  still  extant,  for  Sextus  Roscius  of 
Ameria,  in  supporting  whose  cause,  (the  first  of  those 
called  '-public"  which  he  was  induced  to  advocate,)  he 
boldly  entered  the  judicial  field  against  the  dictator 
Sylla   himself.     The  features  of  the  case   were  as 
follows :  Sextus  Roscius,  residing   in  the  municipal 
town  of  Amelia,  a  person  of  the  equestrian  order,  pos- 
sessed of  considerable  landed  property,  and  distin- 
guished for  his  zeal  in  the  cause  of  the  aristocratic 
faction,   having  visited  Rome  while  the  proscription 
of  Sylla  was  at  its  height,  was,  some  time  afterwards, 
waylaid  and  murdered  near  the  Palatine  baths,  as  he 
was  returning  from   a  supper  to  which  he  had  been 
invited,  the  assassins  as  soon  as  they  had  efi'ected  their 
object,  escaping  detection  by  a  hasty  flight.     In  the 
course  of  a  few  days,  to  the  general  astonishment  of  all 
acquainted  with  his  principles  and   recent  conduct, 
his  name  was  discovered  in  the  list  of  the  proscribed. 
His  estates,  as  forfeited  property,  were   accordingly 
sold  and  purchased,  at  a  price  far  below  their  real  value, 
by  Chrysogonus  the    favourite  freedman   of  Sylla. 
The  strongest  suspicions  were  excited,  on  this  occasion, 
of  an   infamous   collusion   between   two    Roscii  of 
Ameria,  Magnus  and   Capito,  who  were  known  to 
have  been  at  enmity  with  the  deceased,  and  Chryso- 
gonus ;  little  doubt  being  entertained  that  the  former 
were  either  actually  or   indirectly  concerned  in  the 
commission  of  the  murder,  and  the  latter  at  least 
an  accessory  after  the  fact,    by  adding,  without  the 
knowledge  of  Sylla,  the  name  of  Sextus  Roscius  to 
the  list  of  proscription,  that  he  might  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  purchasing  his  estates  at  his  own  price. 
The  opinions  entertained  upon  the  subject  received 
ample  warrant  from  the  circumstance,  that  although 
Chrysogonus    was    the   purchaser,   possession    was 
taken  of  the  property,  in  his  name,  by  one  of  the  sus- 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


19 


I  r 


'i    , 


J 


pected  Roscii,  while   the  other  was  presented  vrith 
three  excellent  farms,   constituting  part  of  the  for- 
feited estate,  as  his  share  of  the  plunder.     The  son 
of  the  murdered  knight,  who  bore  his  father's  name, 
after  being  pitilessly  ejected  from  his  domain,  and  re- 
duced to  the  utmost  want  and  wretchedness  by  these 
iniquitous  proceedings,  became  so  general  an  object 
of  compassion  to  his  fellow  citizens,  that  a  depu- 
tation was,  in  a    short  time,   sent  from  Ameria  to 
acquaint  Sylla   with  the  conduct   of  his  favourite. 
Chrysogonus,  alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  detection 
and  open  exposure,  contrived  to  avert  the  threatened 
danger  for  the  time,  by  amusing  the  friends  of  Sextus 
Roscius  with  promises  of  a  speedy  restitution  of  the 
property  and   compensation  for  the  injury  in  which 
he  had  been  instrumental ;  but  on  finding,  at  length, 
that  he  could  no  longer  hope  to  effect  any  thing  by 
delay,  placed  himself  on  the  offensive,  and,  with   an 
audacity  only  equalled  by  the  wickedness  by  which 
it  was  prompted,  accused   Sextus,  by  means  of  Eru- 
cius,  one  of  his  adherents,  of  being  the  real  perpetra- 
tor of  the  mtu-der  of  his  father.     The  unhappy  object 
of  his  villany,  in  addition  to  being  deprived  of  every 
part  of  his  possessions,   and  reduced  to  depend  upon 
the  charity  of  one  of  his  relatives  for  shelter   and 
sustenance,  was  thus  in  imminent   danger  of  losing 
his  life  also  by  a  false  charge  of  parricide.     The  cause 
was  brought  before  the  tribunal  of  the  praetor  Fan- 
nius,  and  attracted  universal  attention  from  its  sin- 
gularly interesting   character ;    but  notwithstanding 
the  presence   of  the  noblest  and  most   honourable 
citizens  of  Rome,  notwithstanding  the  generally  un- 
derstood  innocence  of  the   accused   and   the  base- 
ness   of    the   prosecutors,  so   great  was  the  terror 
inspired  by  the  name  of  Sylla,  and  so  extensively 
felt  the  danger  of  provoking  him,  by  a  public  op- 
position to  the  agents  of  his  minion,  that  it  seemed  ' 

c2 


20  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

at  first  highly  probable,  that  a  second  ™^^.^^^' ;;^^^^ 
the  mask  of  a  legal  process,  would  be  added  to  that 
of  which  they  were  on  good  ground  supposed  to  have 
been  already  ffuiltv.  The  defendant,  a  man  of  sim- 
JrmarnerTald  h'abits,  whose  life  had  been  for  the 
most  part,  spent  in  the  seclusion  of  the  country,  and 
devotedchieflyto  agricultural  pursuits,  andwho  might 

therefore   be   presumed  to  be  wholly  unacquained 
with  the  forms  of  law,  was  on  the  point  of  learning 
by  painful  experience,  that  the  justice  of  his  cause 
would  be  of  little  avail  for  his  preservation,  m  conse- 
quence of  his  inability,  amidst  the  crowd  of  advo- 
cates around  him,  to  find  one  willing  to  speak  in  his 
favour,  when  Cicero  came  forward   m  his  defence 
with  a  boldness  and  disinterestedness,  which  would 
have  ensured  respect  for  an  oration  of  far  less  ability 
than  that  actually  delivered  in  behalf  of  his  oppressed 
and  desponding  client.     His  dextrous  use  and  power- 
ful statement  of  all  the  points  of  circumstantial  evi- 
dence in  favour  of  the  defendant,  his  counter-insinu- 
ations, upon  the  same  evidence,  against  the  prosecutors 
themselves,  as  the  persons  most  obviously  imphcated 
in  the  crime,  his  fearless  statement  of  the  general 
infamy  of  their  lives,  and  his  cutting  sarcasms  against 
the  rapacious  favourite,  speedily  turned  the  scale  in 
favour  of  the  party  aggrieved.     Roscius  was  acquitted 
by  the  verdict  of  the  judges,  and  Cicero  rose  at  once, 
in  the  estimation  of  the  public,  to  a  level  with   the 
most  gifted  and  most  experienced  among  his  many 
competitors  for  forensic  honours.    Yet  it  is  a  sufficient 
comment  upon  the  character  of  the  times,  that  so  far 
from  obtaining  the  restitution  of  the  property  so  un- 
iustly  wrested  from  him,  Roscius  seems  to  have  been 
considered  in  the  highest  degree  fortunate  in  escaping 
with  life ;  while  the  orator  by  whom  his  accusers  had 
been  triumphantly  refuted,  was  strongly  suspected 
of  having  formed  his  subsequent  determination  of  retir- 


m 


\  I 


I 

I 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO.  21 

ing  for  a  short  time  from  Italy,  from  a  dread  of  the 
resentment  of  Sylla,  on  account  of  his  ready  inter- 
ference for  the  preservation  of  one  whom  the  freedraan 
of  the  tyrant  had  marked  for  destruction. 

This  resolution,  whether  owing  to  any  such  ap- 
prehension or  not,  was  deferred  until  the  following 
year,  and  before  it  was  carried  into  effect  he  had 
gained  additional  distinction  by  his  pleadings  in  several 
less  important  causes,  as  well  as  more  especially  in 
one  arising  from  the  disputed  freedom  of  an  inhabitant 
of  Arretium ;  in  the  conduct  of  which  he  was  suc- 
cessfully opposed  to  the  eminent  advocate  Cotta,  and 
again  ventured  to  appear  in  open  opposition  to  tlie 
well  known  sentiments  of  Sylla,  who  had  exerted 
himself,  by  every  means,  to  prevent  the  privileges  of 
Roman  citizenship  from  becoming  general  through- 
out Italy.  He  then  prepared  for  his  journey  to 
Greece ;  in  mentioning  his  motives  for  which  he  has 
made  no  allusion  whatever  to  any  more  cogent  rea- 
son than  a  regard  for  the  state  of  his  health,  which  had 
become  in  some  measure  impaired  by  his  late  unin- 
termitted  exertions.  "  I  was  at  that  time,"  he 
observes,  "remarkable  for  a  slender  and  feeble  body, 
as  well  as  for  a  long  and  spare  neck  ;  personal  ap- 
pearances which  are  supposed  to  indicate  a  life  held 
upon  a  precarious  tenure,  if  connected  with  any 
severe  labour  or  constant  exercise  of  the  lungs.  My 
friends  were  the  more  anxious  on  my  account,  because 
in  all  my  pleadings  I  declaimed  without  either  gra- 
dation or  variety  of  tone,  at  the  full  pitch  of  my  voice 
and  with  great  vehemence  of  action.  When,  there- 
fore, I  was  strenuously  advised  by  these,  as  well  as 
by  my  physicians,  to  abandon  the  legal  profession,  I 
was  determined  to  encounter  danger  in  any  shape, 
rather  than  forego  the  long  wished  object  of  my 
ambition — renown  as  an  eloquent  speaker.  But 
when  I  considered,  that  by  a  more  subdued  and  mo- 


22  THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

derate  intonation,  and  by  changing  the  whole  cha- 
racter of  my  declamation,  I  should,  while  I  attained 
the  art  of  speaking  in  a  more  temperate  manner,  at 
the  same  time  avoid  the  danger  with  which  my  life 
was  threatened,  I  determined  upon  a  journey  to  Asia 
the  better  to  efiFect  this  desirable  alteration.  I  therefore 
left  Rome,  after  having  been  employed  there  for  two 
years  as  a  pleader,  and  at  a  time  when  my  name  had 
already  become  well  known  in  its  Forum  *." 

Athens,  no  less  celebrated  for  the  ilhistrious  cha- 
racters, by  whom  it  has  from  time  to  time  been  visited, 
than  by  the  names  which  it  has  itself  contributed  to 
swell  the  records  of  fame,  was  the  first  city  which 
received  the  ablest  rival  of  its  own  finished  school  of 
eloquence,  after  his  departure  from  the  Italian  coast. 
The  terrible  sack  of  the  place  by  Sylla,  a  short  time 
before,  had  proved  but  a  temporary  interruption  to 
those  studies  in  which,  after  the  loss  of  all  its  politi- 
cal influence,  it  continued,  for  many  centuries,  more 
enviably  pre-eminent.  The  Porch,  the  Academy, 
the  Lyceum,  and  the  Gymnasium  celebrated  as 
the  ,haunt  of  the  Cynic  School,  were  thronged 
with  philosophers  of  all  nations  and  sects,  and  the 
banks  of  the  Ilissus  and  fragrant  slopes  of  Hymettus 
were  the  daily  scenes  of  those  abstruse  disquisitions, 
which,  whatever  opinion  may  be  entertained  of 
their  merits  on  other  considerations,  must  for 
ever  claim  respect,  from  the  strength  and  magnifi- 
cence of  the  language  in  which  they  have  been 
invested,  as  well  as  from  the  intellectual  acuteness 
and  subtlety  which  they  display.  Cicero  continued 
at  Athens  for  six  months,  commencing  from  this  pe- 
riod of  his  life  his  intimate  acquaintance  and  friend- 
ship with  the  celebrated  Titus  Pomponius,  better 
known  by  the  surname  of  Atticus,  who  had  been 

his  fellow-student  in  boyhood ;  to  which  posterity  is 

______ ^ ■ ) 

•  De  Clar.  Orator.,  cap.  Jtci. 


THE   LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


23 


u 


indebted  for  so  much  of  his  invaluable  correspondence. 
lie  also  attended  the  lectures  of  the  most  eminent 
philosophers  residing  in  the  city  ;  among  whom  the 
names  of  the  Epicureans  Phaedrus  and  Zeno,  and  the 
Academic  or  Stoic  Antiochus  of  Ascalon,  have  been 
particularly  mentioned.  He  at  the  same  time  fre- 
quently exercised  himself  in  oratory  under  the  direc- 
tions of  Demetrius  of  Syria,  of  whose  abilities  as  a 
rhetorician  he  has  spoken  in  high  terms.  From 
Athens  he  proceeded  to  Asia,  having  first  upon  his 
way  been  solemnly  initiated  at  Eleusis  in  those 
celebrated  mysteries,  respecting  which  so  much  has 
been  written,  and  so  little  is  apparently  understood. 
His  time  in  Asia  was  employed,  as  the  greater  part 
of  his  previous  life  had  been,  in  the  uninterrupted 
pursuit  of  that  oratorical  excellence  which,  whether 
at  home  or  abroad,  was  the  object  perpetually  pre- 
sented to  the  dreams  of  his  ambition.  In  a  few 
months  he  had  left  scarcely  a  city  of  that  then  cele- 
brated region  unvisited,  and  during  his  progress  was 
attended  constantly  by  professors  of  acknowledged 
merit,  whom  he  had  prevailed  upon  to  accompany 
him  as  his  instructors  in  rhetoric ;  including  Menippus 
of  Stratonice,  whom  he  terms  the  ablest  of  Asiatic 
orators,  Dionysius  of  Magnesia,  ^schylus  of  Cnidos, 
and  Xenocles  of  Adramyttium,  all  enjoying  an 
honourable  reputation  in  their  respective  cities.  He 
then  sailed  for  Rhodes,  where  he  had  once  more  an 
opportunity  of  benefiting  by  the  tuition  of  his  for- 
mer master  Molo,  to  whom  he  confesses  his  obligations 
for  checking  the  too  great  exuberance  of  fancy, 
for  which  his  early  speeches  had  been  remarkable, 
and  which  was  a  fault  rather  likely  to  be  increased 
than  diminished  bv  his  late  attention  to  the  Asiatic 
school  of  oratory.  His  biographer  Plutarch  has  men- 
tioned, that  after  declaiming  on  one  occasion  before 
this  master,    when  all  the    by-standers  had   beieu 


24 


THE    LIFE    OP  CICERO. 


astonished  with  his  performance,  and  had  followed 
the  concluding  periods  of  his  oration  with  enthusi- 
astic and  frequently  renewed  expressions  of  applause, 
Molo  sat  for  some  time  silent  and  apparently  occu- 
pied with  a  train  of  melancholy  thoughts,  and  on 
being  asked  by  his  pupil,  with  some  slight  appearance 
of  dissatisfaction,  why  lie  made  no  comments  either 
of  praise  or  censure  on  the  occasion,  replied  to  the 
following  effect :  "  It  is  not,  Cicero,  that  insensibility 
to  the  proofs  of  your  abilities  which  you  have  just 
given  has  any  connexion  with  my  silence.  These,  in- 
deed, are  worthy  of  all  the  commendation  which  has 
been  bestowed  upon  them,  but  alas  for  the  reputation 
of  Greece!  But  little  was  left  taher  to  boast,  and 
even  the  last  of  her  claims  to  reputation, — her  emi- 
nence in  learning  and  eloquence, — is  now  also,  I  per- 
ceive, on  the  point  of  being  transferred  to  Rome." 

After  two  years'  absence  in  Greece  and  Asia, 
Cicero  determined  upon  returning  to  Italy,  since  he 
had  now  obtained  all  the  advantages  contemplated  in 
his  travels.  His  constitution  had  become  more  robust ; 
his  powers  of  enduring  fatigue  were  greatly  increased 
by  frequent  practice ;  he  had  acquired  that  mastery 
over  his  voice  by  which  he  was  always  afterwards  en- 
abled to  modulate  and  restrain  it  within  bounds ;  and, 
by  his  intercourse  with  the  various  masters  through 
whose  courses  of  instruction  he  had  passed,  he  had 
not  only  improved  his  general  style,  but  gained  a  far 
greater  scope  and  variety  of  expression  than  he  could 
have  attained  by  studying  the  peculiar  excellences 
of  any  one  preceptor.  If  he  had  ever  feared  the 
power  of  Sylla,  all  apprehensions  on  that  subject 
were  removed  by  the  death  of  the  dictator,  while  he 
was  still  at  Athens,  under  such  circumstances  of  misery 
as  are  sometimes  permitted  to  render  the  last  moments 
of  the  persecutor  and  the  oppressor  strange  and  ter- 
rible waminsfs  to  those  whose  belief  in  a  retributive 


I 


I 
I 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  25 

Providence  may  have  been  weakened  by  their  pre- 
vious prosperity.  In  his  journey  homeward  through 
Greece,  he  is  said  to  have  consulted  the  oracle  of 
Apollo  at  Delphi  upon  the  best  means  of  obtaining 
future  honour  and  reputation,  and  to  have  received 
in  reply  the  advice  to  make  his  own  natural  judg- 
ment, and  not  the  will  or  favour  of  the  multitude,  the 
guide  of  his  public  actions.  The  writer  who  has 
mentioned  this  circumstance,  adds,  that  he  was 
so  far  influenced  by  the  answer  of  the  Pythoness, 
as  for  some  time  after  his  arrival  in  Rome  to 
avoid  notice,  and  cautiously  to  refrain  from  paying 
court  to  the  people  by  the  usual  methods  then  pursued 
to  ensure  their  favour.  But  the  account  is  far  from 
probable,  or  if  he  was,  indeed,  at  any  time  under  the 
influence  of  such  an  admonition,  it  must  have  been 
for  a  period  of  singularly  short  continuance.  In  the 
year  following  his  return  to  Italy,  we  again  find  him 
constant  in  his  attendance  at  the  Forum,  and  care- 
fully adding  the  last  requisite  to  his  excellence  as  an 
orator,  by  correcting  all  the  faults  of  his  action  under 
the  directions  of  ^sop  and  Roscius ;  the  former  the 
most  celebrated  tragic  actor  of  his  time,  as  the  latter 
was  confessedly  the  first  in  comedy.  He  shortly 
afterwards  had  an  opportunity  of  repaying  the  in- 
structions of  Roscius,  by  appearing  as  his  advocate 
in  an  action  brought  against  him  by  Caius  Fannius 
Cherea  for  the  recovery  of  an  alleged  debt.  The  suit 
was  of  a  somewhat  complicated  character,  arising 
from  a  dispute  respecting  the  money  paid  as  com- 
pensation by  the  murderers  of  a  slave,  in  whom  both 
Roscius  and  Cherea  possessed  equal  rights.  It  is  to 
be  regretted,  that  the  oration  spoken  by  Cicero  on 
this  occasion  is  imperfect.  Yet  enough  is  extant  to 
provoke  a  smile  at  the  singular  difference  between 
the  observances  in  a  Roman  court  of  justice  on  such 
occasions,  and  the  more  equitable  methods  of  pro- 


26 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


cedure  adopted  in  similar  processes  at  the  present 
time.  The  grossest  personal  vituperations  against  the 
plaiutiff,  mingled  with  arguments  against  the  validity 
of  his  claims  drawn  from  his  features  and  aspect,  with 
direct  and  open  flattery  to  the  presiding  judge,  are 
at  least  strangely  inconsistent  with  modem  ideas  of 
the  proper  duties  and  privileges  of  an  advocate. 
Such,  however,  were  some  of  the  commonest  features 
in  the  pleadings  once  heard  in  the  Forum  of  polished 
Rome,  and  for  such  the  oration  for  Sextus  Roscius, 
without  any  great  display  of  the  beauties  of  rhetoric, 
is  sufficiently  distinguished. 

In  the  same  year  which  witnessed  his  advocacy  of 
the  cause  of  Roscius  the  Comedian,  Cicero  first  pre- 
sented himself  as  a  candidate  for  office,  by  publicly 
averring  his  intention  of  standing  for  the  quaestorship. 
This  determination  was  made  while  the  orator  Cotta 
was  canvassing  for  the  consulship,  and  Hortensius  for 
the  dignity  of  aedile.  All  three  were  successful ;  but  the 
election  of  Cicero  was  remarkable  for  the  readiness  with 
which  the  tribes  united  in  returning  him,  before  all  his 
competitors,  to  the  desired  appointment.  He  was  now 
in  the  thirty- first  year  of  his  age,  the  earliest  period 
at   which,    according    to    the   existing   regulations, 
a  Roman  citizen  was  considered  eligible  to  the  lowest 
honour  in  the  power  of  the  people  to  bestow.     By 
recent  legacies,   his  estate  had  been  increased  suf- 
ficiently to  exceed  the  senatorial  census,  which  was 
then  fixed  at  eight  hundred  sestertia,  or  considerably 
more  than  six  thousand  pounds  sterling.     His  mar- 
riage with  his  first  wife,  Terentia,  whiqh  took  place 
before  his  election,  made  no  inconsiderable  addition 
to  his  income,  if  Plutarch's  statement  is  correct,  that 
she  brought  to  her  husband  a  fortune  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  denarii.     This  union,  however, 
proved  by  no  means  one  of  the  happiest  events  in  the 
orator  8  life.     Terentia,  whose  family  must  have  been 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  27 

of  rank,  since  one  of  her  sisters  was  a  vestal  virgin, 
seems  to  have  been  a  woman  of  haughty,  jealous, 
and  imperious  temperament,  and,  after  many  years  of 
domestic  bickerings,  was  at  length  separated  from  her 
husband ;  who  is  proved  on  unquestionable  evidence, 
amidst  all  his  subsequent  honours  and  distinctions, 
his  mastery  over  the  passions  of  multitudes,  his 
political  influence  and  literary  renown,  too  often  to 
have  wanted  the  simplest  but  richest  source  of 
enjoyment — the  solace  and  comfort  affi)rded  by  a 
peaceful  home. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Conduct  of  Cicero  in  his  Quaestorship — He  discovers  the  Tomb  of 
Archimedes — Delivers  a  farewell  Oration  at  the  Expiration  of 
hid  Office  to  the  People  of  Lilybaeum — He  embarks  for  Italy, 
arrives  at  Puteoli — Spends  five  years  in  pleading  private  Causes — 
Resolves  to  stand  for  the  ^dileship,  and  is  returned  to  the 
OflRce — Commencement  of  the  prosecution  against  Verres — 
History  of  the  Administration  of  that  Magistrate — Oration 
against  Csecilius — Cicero  sails  a  second  time  to  Sicily — Returns 
to  Rome,  and  delivers  his  first  Oration  against  Verres,  who 
withdraws  into  Banishment — He  defends  Marcus  Fonteius  aud 
Aulus  Cecina — Dedication  of  the  Capitol  by  Quintus  Catulus. 

The  quaestorship  in  the  ancient  republic  was  an 
office  which  involved  in  it  considerable  authority  and 
no  small  share  of  responsibility.  As  the  circumstance 
of  having  been  appointed  to  the  honour  gave  the  right 
of  admission  to  the  senate,  and  as  it  afforded  a  fair 
field  for  the  exhibition  of  those  qualities  which  were 
likely  to  constitute,  in  the  eye  of  the  public,  claims 
for  still  higher  dignities,  it  was  anxiously  sought  by 
all  young  aspirants  to  political  eminence.  At  home 
the  duties  of  this  magistracy  involved  the  care  of 
the  treasury,  and  the  receipt  and  expenditure  of  the 
public  revenue ;  abroad,  the  payment  of  the  troops, 
and  the  collection  of  the  tributes  and  imposts  exacted 
from  the  different  nations  which  had  submitted  to 


28  THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

%]ie  Roman   arms.     The  provinces   of    the    several 
quaestors  were  assigned  to  each  by  lot  at  the  general 
election,  and  by  this  method  of  distribution,  Cicero 
was  commissioned  to  accompany  the  praetor  Pedu- 
caeus,   on  whom    the  government  of  the   island   of 
Sicily  had  been  conferred  in  a  similar  manner.     This 
province  was  considered  extensive  enough  to  require 
the  presence  of  more  than  a  single  quaestor,  and  two 
were  accordingly  appointed  to  it ;  the  one  being  sta- 
tioned at  Syracuse  and  the  other  at  Lilyb^um.    The 
latter  city  was  allotted  as  his  residence  to  Cicero,  who 
found  it,  at  first,  a  difficult  task  to  exercise  his  public 
functions  in  such  a  manner  as  to  avoid  giving  offence 
to  the  people  among  whom  he  had  been  stationed. 
Sicily,  whose  abundant  harvests,  ever  since  its  con- 
quest  by   the    Romans,  had   contributed   so   much 
towards  the  sustenance  of  the  crowded  population  of 
Latium,  as  to  acquire  for  it  the  title  of  the  principal 
*'  granary  of  the  republic,"  was  at  that  season  required 
to  export  far  more  than  its  usual  supply  of  com,  in 
(jonsequence  of  a  late  general  scarcity  in  Italy.     One- 
tenth  of  the  whole  produce  of  the  island,  which  was 
exactly  the  tribute  paid  to  its  ancient  kings,  con- 
stituted,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  the  amount 
of  its  annual  contribution  to  the  Roman  government, 
and  when  this  demand  was  exceeded,  a  certain  sum 
was  granted  from  the  treasury  as  a   compensation 
for  the  additional  grain  required,  although  it  may  be 
supposed  that  the  amount  of  the  remuneration  was 
fixed,  rather  by  the   relative  positions   of  the  two 
nations,   than  by  any  general  principles  of  equity. 
Owing  to  the  strictness  and  impartiality  with  which 
he  fulfilled  liis  duties  to  the  State  in  his  superinten- 
dence of  this  unpopular  exaction,  Cicero  was,  at  first, 
viewed  with    considerable  suspicion  and  dislike  by 
the  Sicilians,  but  his  general  affability  and  courtesy, 
his  willingness  to  listen  to  every  grievance,  and  his 


V  -i 


I 


♦ 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  29 

readiness  to  redress  it,  joined  to  his  unimpeachable 
integrity  and  neglect  of  his  personal  interests,  in  an 
office  which  afforded  but  too  many  opportunities  for 
injustice  and  extortion,  speedily  changed  the  tide  of 
public  opinion  in  his  favour.  With  a  confidence 
possibly  prompted  by  no  small  degree  of  vanity,  but 
by  a  vanity  which,  if  not  well  founded,  would  at  once 
have  issued  in  open  exposure  and  disgrace,  he  after- 
wards publicly  boasted,  that  no  one  in  similar  cir- 
cumstances had  ever  behaved  more  obligingly  or 
with  higher  reputation  than  himself*;  and  it  is 
evident  that  the  public  of  Sicily  were  impressed,  to  a 
considerable  extent,  with  the  same  opinion,  since  they 
hot  only  decreed,  in  acknowledgment  of  his  merits, 
such  honours  to  be  paid  him  as  no  previous  quaestor 
had  ever  received,  but  continued  on  terms  of  the  most 
friendly  intercourse  with  him  long  after  the  expiration 
of  his  year  of  office.  Beyond  the  honourable  fulfil- 
ment of  the  duties  which  had  devolved  upon  him,  his 
residence  in  Sicily  was  remarkable  for  few  events  of 
moment.  Plutarch,  however,  has  related,  that  he 
found  an  opportunity  of  ingratiating  himself  at  this 
time  with  some  of  the  leading  families  of  Rome,  by 
successfully  defending  a  number  of  young  men  con- 
nected with  them,  who  had  been  sent  as  prisoners  to 
the  praetor  at  Syracuse,  charged  witli  certain  offences 
against  military  discipline.  It  is  also  not  unworthy 
of  notice,  that  he  was  the  means  of  pointing  out  to 
the  Syracusans  the  monument  of  their  great  country- 
man Archimedes,  the  site  of  which  had  been  long 
forgotten.  His  own  account  of  his  discovery  of  the 
neglected  sepulchre  of  the  Newton  of  antiquity,  is 
given  in  the  fifth  book  of  the  Tusculan  Questions, 
and  he  seems  to  have  taken  an  honest  pride  in 
recording  the  circumstances.     "  The  tomb  of  Archi- 

*  Non  vereor  ne  quis  audeat  dicere,  uUius  in  Sicilia  quaeaturam 
aut  gratiorem  aut  clariorem  fuisse,  &c — Pro  Plancio,  xxvi. 


ti 


so 


THE    LIFE   OP  CICERO. 


medes,"  he  observes,  "  which  was  altogether  unknown 
to  the  SjTracusans,  wlio  even  denied  that  it  had  any 
existence,  and  completely  surrounded  and  overgrown 
with  wild  shrubs  and  briars,  was  by  my  means  once 
more  revealed  to  them  during  my  quaestorship  in 
^cily.  I  retained  in  my  memory  certain  verses 
which,  as  I  had  understood,  were  inscribed  upon  the 
monument,  indicating  that  the  figures  of  a  sphere  and 
cylinder  were  placed  above  it.  When,  therefore, 
after  a  long  and  tedious  search,  (for  there  are  an 
immense  number  of  sepulchres  near  the  gates  looking 
towards  Agrigentum*,)  I  at  length  perceived  a 
small  pillar,  scarcely  rising  above  the  rank  vegetation 
around  it,  and  bearing  these  figures,  1  immediately 
remarked  to  the  chief  persons  of  Syracuse,  who  were 
in  my  company,  that  I  thought  1  had  found  what  I 
had  been  seeking.  A  number  of  persons  were  imme- 
diately sent  with  scythes  and  bill- hooks  to  clear  the 
spot ;  and  as  soon  as  a  path  was  opened  we  advanced 
towards  the  base  of  the  pillar  opposite  to  us.  The 
inscription  was  then  obvious,  although  the  con- 
cluding words  of  the  verses  were  half  obliterated  by 
decay.  Thus  the  most  illustrious,  and  at  one  time 
the  most  learned  city  of  Greece,  would  have  been  igno- 
rant of  the  tomb  of  the  most  subtle  and  acute -minded 
of  its  sons,  had  not  an  individual  of  Arpinum  indi- 
cated where  it  was  to  be  foundt."  This  discovery 
was  made  during  a  general  tour  of  the  island  which 
Cicero  undertook  previous  to  his  departure  from 
Sicily.  On  his  return  to  Lilybaeum,  from  whence 
he  shortly  afterwards  embarked  for  Italy,  he  deli- 
vered a  farewell  oration  to  the  people,  of  which  but 
a  few  words,  quoted  by  a  later  author,  are  extant. 
On  this  occasion  it  appears,  tliat  the  strongest  assur- 

*  Or  the  gates  near  the  quarter  of  Achradina,  the  former  reading 
Agragianas,  having  been  recently  suspected  to  be  a  corruption 
of  Achradinas.  t  TubcuI.  Qusest.,  V.  xxiii. 


n 


I 


[ 
I 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO.  31 

ances  of  mutual  regard  were  exchanged  between  the 
speaker  and  the  assembled  multitude  whom  he  had 
convened,  and  that  Cicero  made,  at  the  same  time,  a 
general  promise  of  his  best  services  in  favour  of  the 
Sicilians,  if  they  should  at  any  time  think  proper  to 
demand  them.  From  the  zeal  he  had  shown  iij 
executing  his  official  duties,  the  high  reputation  he 
had  attained  throughout  Sicily,  and  the  great  benefit 
his  exertions  had  conferred  upon  the  people  of  Rome, 
by  supplying  their  necessities  in  a  time  of  general 
appreliension  of  want,  he  had  flattered  himself  that  his 
name  was  now  scarcely  less  celebrated  at  home  than 
abroad,  and  that  all  Italy  was  already  filled  with  his 
praises,  and  ready  to  do  honour  to  his  disinterestedness 
and  probity.  But  his  anticipations  were  destined  to 
receive  a  mortifying  check  on  his  arrival  at  Puteoli  in 
Campania,  of  which  he  has  given  a  pleasant  account  in 
his  oration  for  Plancius,  delivered  at  a  time,  when,  after 
having  filled  with  honour  the  highest  offices  of  the  State, 
he  might  mention  with  complacency  the  first  rebuke 
sustained  by  his  early  ambition.  This  town  was 
then  filled  with  a  concourse  of  idlers  of  the  higher  ranks 
from  Rome,  who  had  resorted  thither  for  the  benefit 
of  its  mineral  waters,  and  Cicero,  shortly  after  his 
landing,  on  meeting  with  a  former  acquaintance  was 
surprised,  instead  of  the  congratulations  on  his  return 
from  Sicily,  or  the  compliments  on  his  conduct  there, 
which  he  had  naturally  expected,  to  be  asked,  how 
long  ago  he  had  left  Rome  and  what  was  the  latest 
news  in  the  metropolis.  Indignant  at  this  instance  of 
ignoranceon  a  subject  which,  to  himself  at  least,  seemed 
of  the  highest  importance,  he  replied  with  an  air  of 
offended  dignity,^  that  so  far  from  having  lately  visited 
Rome  he  was  then  but  just  returned  from  his  province. 
"  True,  from  Africa  I  believe,"  was  the  observation 
of  his  companion ;  and  this  second  pro  of  of  the  limited 
range  of  his  reputation  was  not  rendered  much  more 


82  THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 

agreeable  by  the  intervention  of  a  third  party,  who, 
willing  to  correct  the  ignorance  of  the  other,  and  to 
prove  to  Cicero  that  he,  at  least,  was  acquainted  with 
the  place  which  had  been  the  scene  of  the  execution  of 
the  duties  of  his  first  appointment,  observed  with 
marks  of  surprise,  "  How  !  is  it  possible  that  you  can 
be  ignorant  that  our  friend  here  was  lately  praetor  of 
Syracuse  V  The  observation  of  the  orator  upon  this 
circumstance  is  just  and  pertinent :  "  I  know  not,  ye 
Judges,"  he  adds,  after  giving  an  account  of  the 
transaction,  "whether  my  disappointment  was  not  of 
greater  service  to  me  than  if  I  had  met  with  universal 
congratulations.  For  as  soon  as  I  perceived  the  peo- 
ple of  Rome  were  indeed  dull  of  hearing,  but  possessed 
of  acute  and  observant  eyes,  I  ceased  to  consider  in 
what  manner  my  reputation  might  best  appeal  to  the 
former  sense,  and  took  care  that  they  should  have 
opportunities  of  regarding  me  daily.  I  therefore 
lived  entirely  in  the  public  gaze.  I  kept  close  to  the 
duties  of  the  Forum,  and  on  no  occasion  was  a  denial 
from  my  porter,  or  even  the  necessary  refreshment  of 
sleep,  a  means  of  sending  a  single  citizen  who  had 
sought  an  interview  with  me  unsatisfied  from  my 
door*." 

Amidst  the  diligent  exercise  of  such  means  to  ensure 
popularity,  and  in  the  advocacy  of  many  causes  of  im- 
portance, the  pleadings  in  which  have,  without  excep- 
tion, perished,  five  years  passed  away  ;t  the  least  im- 
portant perhaps  in  the  life  of  the  orator,  but  far  from 
destitute  of  events  affecting,  to  no  trivial  extent,  the 
•interests  of  his  country.     During  this  interval  Rome 

*  Pro  Plancio,  xxvii. 

-f"  To  this  period  may  possibly  be  referred  the  orations  for  Marcus 
TuUius  and  Lucius  Varenus,  passages  from  which  are  quoted  by 
Priscian  and  QuintHian.  Additions  have  lately  been  made  to  the 
fragments  of  the  oration  for  Tullius,  who  seems  to  have  been  im- 
peached under  a  charge  of  illegal  riolence,  by  the  discoveries  of 
Augelo  Maio. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


33 


•f 


I 


was  agitated  by  violent  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  sup- 
porters of  the  popular  interests,  to  rescind  the  acts 
lately  passed  by  Sylla  in  favour  of  the  aristocracy, 
and  more  especially  to  procure  the  restoration  of  the 
tribunitial  power;  a  miglity  engine  either  of  good 
or  evil,  according  to  the  character  of  those  by  whom 
it  was  wielded,  which  the  dictator  had  done  his 
utmost  to  neutralise,  as  well  by  circumscribing  its 
exercise  in  other  respects,  as  by  passing  a  law,  that 
whosoever  had  once  borne  the  ofiice  of  tribune  of  the 
people  should  be  ineligible  to  any  higher  magistracy. 
Yet  amidst  the  prevalence  of  furious  and  constant 
dissensions  at  home,  the  arms  of  the  republic  abroad 
were,  during  the  same  period,  crowned  with  their  usual 
success,  and  her  already  enormous  dominion  increased 
on  all  sides  by  the  swords  of  her  victorious  legions. 
In  Spain  the  last  adherents  of  the  Marian  faction, 
who  under  the  generalship  of  Sertorius,  probably  the 
ablest  leader  of  his  time,  had  long  defied  the  united 
force  of  Metellus  and  Pompey,  were,  after  his  assassi- 
nation by  Perpenna,  effectually  dissipated  or  destroyed. 
In  the  East  the  power  of  Mithridates  was  completely 
broken  by  LucuUus,  who  after  raising  the  siege  of 
Cyzicus,  and  wresting  one  province  after  another 
from  the  hands  of  his  antagonist,  concluded  his  career 
of  conquest  by  compelling  the  most  formidable  enemy 
to  Roman  ambition  since  the  days  of  Hannibal, 
to  relinquish  his  hold  upon  Asia,  and  to  take 
refuge  in  the  inmost  parts  of  the  kingdom  of  Pon- 
tus.  These  advantages  were  somewhat  counter- 
balanced by  the  Servile  War  excited  by  Spartacus; 
but  this  also,  after  the  regular  forces  of  the  Common- 
wealth had  been  several  times  shamefully  beaten  by 
an  undisciplined  multitude,  whose  sense  of  injuries 
or  dread  of  future  severities  stood  them  in  the  stead 
of  more  efiicient  training  and  military  skill,  was  at 
length  brought  to  a  conclusion  by  the  victory  of  Marcus 


34  THE    LIFE    OP   CICERQ. 

Crassus  in  Lucania,  and  the  destruction  of  those  who 
had  escaped  from  the  field  by  the  army  of  Pompey, 
which  encountered  them  as  they  were  on  their  march 
towards  the  Alps.  Both  these  generals,  in  reward 
for  their  eminent  services,  were  made  consuls,  in  the 
year  after  the  suppression  of  the  revolt ;  and  the  vanity 
of  Pompey,  besides  an  express  decree  of  the  Senate 
by  which  he  was  allowed  to  enter  upon  the  consulate 
before  passing  through  the  subordinate  ofiices,  was 
additionally  gratified  by  a  triumph  for  his  success  in 
Spain  ;  the  second  he  had  obtained  while  yet  a  simple 
Roman  knight.  It  was  in  the  consulate  of  Pompey 
and  Crassus  (a.  u.  c.  684)  that  Cicero,  since  the 
usual  interval  had  elapsed  from  his  quaestorship, 
after  which  it  was  lawful  to  aspire  to  the  higher  dig- 
nities, presented  himself  to  the  people  as  candidate  for 
the  office  of  curule  aedile,  and  had  again  the  satisfac- 
tion of  being  first  returned  at  the  election. 

Those  who  held  this  magistracy,  the  lowest  in  the 
state  which  entitled  its  possessors  to  the  appellation 
of  noble,  a  distinction  which  also  descended  to  their 
posterity,  were,  as  its  name  imports,  entrusted  prin- 
cipally with  the  superintendence  of  the  public  build- 
ings at  Rome.  They  were  also  required  to  preside  in 
the  markets,  and  to  ascertain  that  none  of  the  weights 
and  measures  used  there  fell  below  the  legal  standard. 
But  the  principal  and  the  most  onerous  part  of  their 
office  consisted  in  the  direction  of  the  public  games 
and  shows.  The  aediles  were  originally  two  in 
number  ;  but  two  more,  distinguished  by  the  name 
of  curule  a'diles,  from  the  ivory  seat  they  were 
privileged  to  use,  were  afterwards  annually  chosen,  at 
first  from  the  ranks  of  the  aristocracy  alone,  but 
subsequently  from  the  patricians,  or  plebeians,  indif- 
ferently. In  what  manner  the  office  of  these  dififered 
from  that  of  the  others,  termed,  by  way  of  distinction, 
plebeian  a?dilcs,   is  yet  to  be  ascertained.     It  has 


THE   LIFE  OF    CICERO. 


35 


been  conjectured,  that  whatever  might  have  been 
originally  the  separation  of  their  duties,  they  were  at  a 
later  period  completely  blended  ;  the  two  first  elected 
assuming  the  more  honourable  title,  but  acting  in 
all  respects  in  common  with  their  fellows.  As  the 
populace  of  Rome,  in  earlier  as  well  as  in  more  recent 
times,  were  so  inordinately  fond  of  spectacles  as  to 
render  the  gratification  of  their  ruling  taste  an 
expeditious  and  certain  road  to  their  favour,  it  be- 
came an  object  of  ambition  with  successive  aediles  to 
exceed  all  who  had  gone  before  them  in  the  pomp  and 
magnificence  of  the  shows  which  they  were  authorised 
to  exhibit.  The  most  distant  provinces  were  conse- 
quently ransacked  by  their  agents  for  strange  or 
unknown  animals,  and  crowds  of  furious  beasts  trans- 
ported to  Rome  for  the  hunts  and  combats  of  the 
Troops    of  gladiators    were   purchased,   at 


arena. 


enormous  prices,  to  contribute  by  mutual  slaughter 
to  the  brutal  pleasures  of  the  populace,  and  theatrical 
exhibitions  prepared  at  a  cost  which  renders  perfectly 
insignificant  the  most  ingenious  efibrts  of  modern 
extravagance  and  luxury.  As  a  proof  of  this  it 
may  be  mentioned,  that  when  Julius  Ca?sar  was 
elected  to  the  aedileship,  he  exhibited  three  hundred 
and  twenty  pair  of  gladiators  *,  and  that  the  whole 
apparatus  of  the  arena,  furnished  on  the  occasion, 
was  formed  of  solid  silver.  But  the  aedileship  of 
M.  Scaurus,  some  years  before,  had  placed  it  out 
of  the  power  of  the  wealthiest  citizen  to  surpass  him 
in  lavish'  expenditure.  This  magistrate  exhibited  no 
less  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  panthers  at  once  at  a 
public  entertainment;  and  the  theatre  which  he  caused 
to  be  erected  for  dramatic  representations,  although  its 
dimensions  and  decorations  are  matters  of  grave 
history,  reminds  the  reader  of  the  wildest  of  Arabian 
fictions.    This  stupendous  edifice  was  capable  of  con- 


I 


*  Plutarch,  in  Cses. 

d2 


36 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


37 


taming   eighty   thousand   spectators* .      The   stage 
front  displayed  three  hundred  and   sixty  columns 
disposed  in  three  tiers,   of  which  the  lowest  were 
thirty-eight  feet  high.     The  entablatures  which  they 
supported  were   severally  composed   of   marble,   of 
glass,  and  of  beams  richjy  gilded.      Three  thousand 
brazen  figures,  disposed  between  the  colunrins,  formed 
the   temporary  ornaments  of  the   majestic  erection, 
which,  from  its  vastness  and  beauty,  must  have  ap- 
peared to  the  astonished   spectators,   on  their  first 
admission,  as  a  splendid  architectural  vision.     The 
additional  expense  incurred  for  the  dresses  of  the 
actors   and   chorusses,  the  valuable  paintings,   and 
other   decorations,    must   have  been  almost  beyond 
computation ;    since  we   are    informed,    that    when 
what  was  left  of  them   had  been   removed  to  the 
Tusculan  villa  of  Scaurus,  and  that  edifice  had  been 
wilfully  set  on  fire  by  his  slaves,  the  loss,  in  such 
articles  alone,  was  estimated  at  more  than  eight  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds  sterling.    It  is  needless  to  state, 
that  in  an  office  sometimes  involving  expenditure  like 
this,  the  most  extensive  private  fortunes  were  speedily 
swallowed   up,   and   overwhelming   debts   incurred. 
Those,   however,  who   were  at  so  much   pains  and 
cost  to  entertain  the  multitude,  were  far  from  being 
disinterested  in   their   prodigality.      The   aedileship 
was  regarded  merely  as   an  introduction,  if  popu- 
larly filled,  to  the  dignities  of  praetor  and  consul,  and 
the  prospect  of  obtaining  a  province,  in  either  of  these 
capacities,  was  considered    sufficient  to  justify  any 
outlay ;  since  an  ample  remuneration  might  then  be 
expected  at  the  expense  of  the  unhappy  subjects  of 
the  empire,  upon  whom  the  burthen  of  entertaining 
their   conquerors    ultimately   fell.     It    was   on   the 
strength  of  such  a  contingency,  that  Julius  Caesar, 
before  being  elected  to  any  public  office,  contracted 

*  FUd.  Hist.  Nat.  lib.  xxxvi.  cap.  24. 


I 


a  debt  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds, 
which  he  had  contrived  to  increase  to  nearly  a  mil- 
lion before  setting  out  after  his  praetorship  for  his 
province  of  Spain.  If  Cicero  has  given  an  impartial 
account  of  his  own  conduct  during  his  gedileship,  it 
was  neither  distinguished  by  profuse  liberality,  nor 
by  parsimonious  meanness,  but  regulated  entirely  by 
the  extent  of  the  resources  at  his  command  *.  VVhile 
yet,  however,  canvassing  for  the  office,  and  some  time 
before  the  assembly  of  the  people  at  which  he  was  elect- 
ed, he  was  called  upon  to  take  the  leading  part  in 
the  celebrated  prosecution  of  Verres ;  a  cause  in  every- 
way suited  both  to  the  display  of  his  genius  and  the 
best  qualities  of  his  disposition,  and  in  which  he  had 
the  fortune  to  be  again  opposed  to  Hortensius,  his 
predecessor  in  civic  honours  as  well  as  in  oratoi:ical 
reputation,  but  whom  he  was  destined  after  a  short 
time  to  surpass  in  both. 

The  condition  of  Sicily  at  this  time  might  be 
cited,  as  an  additional  example  to  the  many,  widely 
known  and  strikingly  recorded,  of  the  mutability  of 
empires,  and  that  rapid  transition  from  a  state  of  pros- 
perity and  vigour  to  one  of  weakness  and  decay,  to 
which  the  most  flourishing  nations  have  often  been 
subject.  The  country  which  had  once  defied  the  arms 
of  Athens  and  of  Carthage,  when  both  were  at  the 
zenith  of  their  reputation,  the  birth-place  of  Gelon 
and  Hermocrates,  of  the  Hieros  and  the  Dionysii, 
and  crowded  with  numerous  cities,  each  worthy  of 
being  the  capital  of  a  great  nation,  was  now  reduced 
to  such  a  condition  of  abject  slavery  beneath  the 
Roman  yoke,  as  scarcely  to  resist,  even  by  murmurs, 
the  most  atrocious  acts  of  injustice  and  oppression 
practised  upon  it  by  successive  governors,  whose 
avarice  it  was  periodically  obliged  to  satisfy.  Among 
these,  the  name  of  Caius  Verres  has  obtained  an 

*      *  De  Officiis,  Kb.  ii.  cap.  17. 


38 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


infamous  celebrity,  as  well  from  his  exceeding  all 
others  in  his  tyrannical  and  sanguinary  administra- 
tion, as  from  his  having  been  at  length  exposed,  owing 
to  a  combination  of  circumstances  anything  but 
frequent  in  the  history  of  the  provincial  policy  of 
Rome,  to  a  punishment,  which,  light  and  trifling  as 
it  must  appear  when  compared  with  his  measureless 
rapacity  and  inordinate  wickedness,  most  of  those 
resembling  him  in  guilt  were  fortunate  enough  to 
escape.  The  oppression  of  this  magistrate  during  his 
foreign  praetorship  were  so  intolerable,  and  his  ex- 
tortion exercised  on  so  unsparing  a  scale,  as  to  surpass 
the  powers  of  endurance  possessed  even  by  the 
Sicilians  themselves,  and  to  induce  them  to  seek 
retribution  through  the  expensive  and  generally  fruit- 
less method  of  a  public  prosecution.  How  far  their 
resentment  was  justified  may  be  seen  from  a  slight 
sketch  of  the  proceedings  of  Verres  in  Sicily,  extracted 
from  the  orations  of  Cicero  against  him,  which  afford 
but  too  trustworthy  a  commentary  upon  the  kind  of 
treatment  experienced  in  his  day  by  the  conquered 
provinces  at  the  hands  of  Rome ;  treatment,  it  may 
be  observed,  which  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose, 
from  the  writings  of  her  historians,  not  to  mention 
those  of  her  satirists  and  moralists,  to  have  been  un- 
altered at  succeed  i ng  peri od s  of  h er  oppressive  despoti sm . 
Immediately  on  the  arrival  of  this  "  vulture  magis- 
trate," (to  use  a  term  which  Cicero  has  applied  to 
another  character  possessed  of  similar  propensities)  in 
his  province,  Dio  of  Halesa,  a  man  of  considerable  note 
and  property,  was  cited  before  him,  to  answer  respect- 
ing an  estate  bequeathed  to  his  family,  on  the  condition 
of  a  certain  number  of  statues  being  erected  in  the 
market-place  of  the  town  from  part  of  the  proceeds.  In 
defaultof  compliance  with  this  requisition,  the  property 
was  liable  to  be  forfeited  and  to  be  assigned  to  the 
maintenance  of  the  worship  of  Venus  Erycina.     The 


tHE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


3^ 


statues  in  question  had  been  carefully  placed  as  direct- 
ed by  the  will,  but  Verres,  with  the  hope  of  securing 
a  considerable  bribe  to  himself,  as  an  inducement  to 
stop  further  proceedings,  procured  a  person  of  infamous 
character  to  appear  in  behalf  of  the  Goddess  and  to 
prosecute  Dio  for  the  estate,  on  the  ground  that  he 
had  neglected  to  comply  with  the  injunctions  of  the 
testator.  The  cause  was  decided  in  favour  of  the 
defendant,  but  not  until  he  had  secured  the  sentence 
of  the  judge  in  his  behalf,  by  a  present  of  about  nine 
thousand  pounds  in  money,  a  valuable  breed  of  mares, 
and  all  the  costly  plate  and  furniture  contained  in 
his  house.  Verres  upon  a  similar  pretext  extorted  an 
enormous  sum  from  the  two  brothers  Sosippus  and 
Epicrates  of  Agyra,  after  they  had  been  twenty  years 
in  quiet  possession  of  the  inheritance  left  them  by  their 
father,  and  both  were  at  once  reduced  to  poverty  by 
the  exaction.  Heraclius  the  son  of  Hiero,  and  the 
richest  of  the  Syracusans,  who  had  also  been  enjoin- 
ed by  a  will,  by  which  he  inherited  an  immense  estate, 
to  erect  a  number  of  statues  in  the  public  palaestra, 
and  who  had  faithfully  fulfilled  the  injunction,  was 
sued  on  the  same  ground  of  prosecution,  by  persons 
excited  by  the  prsetor,  and  vainly  attempted  to 
rescue  his  possessions  by  flight ;  since  the  whole, 
including  a  multitude  of  slaves,  Corinthian  ves- 
sels, and  embroidered  coverlets  of  immense  value,  was 
declared  to  be  forfeited  to  the  public  :  a  specious  sen- 
tence, which  did  not  prevent  the  greater  part  of  the 
precious  articles  enumerated  from  finding  their  way 
into  the  house  of  the  dignitary  who  had  passed  it. 
Epicrates  of  Bidis,  whose  only  crime  was  his  great 
wealth,  was  the  next  victim.  By  a  false  accusation  of 
forgery,  he  was  soon  obliged  to  abandon  his  domains 
and  take  refuge  at  Rome,  leaving  Verres  and  his 
accusers  to  divide  thfe  plunder  between  them.  But 
the  most  atrocious  instance  of  injustice  was  exhibited 


40 


u/ 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


41 


in  the  case  of  Sopater  the  Halycyensian,  who  after 
being  indicted  for  a  capital  offence  before  the  former 
prsetor  Cains  Sacerdos  had  been  honourably  acquitted. 
He  was  nevertheless  cited  by  Verres,  in  defiance  of 
the  judgment  of  his  predecessor,  to  appear  at  Syracuse, 
and  answer  once  more  to  the  former  charge.  While 
in  prison  in  that  city,  he  was  visited  by  Timarchides, 
one  of  the  praetor's  agents,  who  did  not  scruple  to 
hint  to  him,  that  it  would  be  most  to  his  interest,  in- 
stead of  trusting  to  his  innocence,  to  compound  the  mat- 
ter by  a  liandsome  sum.  By  extraordinary  exertion 
among  his  friends,  the  accused,  who  now  plainly  saw 
to  what  he  had  to  trust,  collected  a  considerable 
gratuity,  which  he  duly  paid  to  Timarchides,  confi- 
dently expecting  that  his  acquittal  and  release  would 
speedily  follow  in  due  course.  He  soon  afterwards, 
however,  received  to  his  astonishment  an  intimation, 
through  the  same  medium,  that  what  he  had  advanced 
was  wholly  insufficient ;  that  the  prosecutor  had  of- 
fered a  much  higher  bribe,  and  that  unless  he  could 
exceed  it,  he  must  prepare  himself  for  the  worst. 
Indignant  at  this  infamous  attempt  at  further  extor- 
tion, or  despairing  of  being  able  to  satisfy  the  increasing 
rapacity  of  Verres,  Sopater  indignantly  broke  off  the 
negotiation,  and  positively  refusing  to  make  the 
slightest  additional  advance,  defied  his  accusers  to  do 
their  worst.  He  soon  had  occasion  to  repent  of 
his  rashness.  The  pr«tor  seized  an  opportunity,  when 
he  had  craftily  managed  to  rid  himself  of  the  presence 
of  the  other  judges,  to  summon  Sopater  to  his  bar, 
and  after  hastily  listening  to  the  evidence  against 
him,  notwithstanding  the  absence  of  his  counsel, 
who  had  withdrawn,  refusing  to  enter  upon  the 
defence  unless  before  a  full  court ;  and  notwithstand- 
ing the  vehement  supplications  and  appeals  of  Sopater 
himself,  who  adjured  him  in  the  name  of  the  Gods 
and  of  all  mankind,  at  least  to  grant  him  a  fair  and 


impartial  trial  conducted  according  to  the  usual  forms, 
proceeded  to  adjudge  him  guilty  and  to  condemn  him 
on  the  capital  charge. 

To  this  system  of  judicial  robbery  was  added  one  of 
indiscriminate  pillage,  unblushingly  carried  on  without 
any  attempt  to'  justify  or  even  to  conceal  it.  The 
temples  of  the  Gods  were  despoiled  of  their  most 
costly  ornaments,  and  the  most  finished  works  of 
art,  the  property  of  communities  or  of  individuals, 
either  surrendered  to  the  praetor,  in  compliance  with 
his  importunate  requests,  or  openly  seized  by  him,  if 
the  more  gentle  methods  of  appropriation  proved 
unavailing.  Pamphilus  of  Lilybaeum  having  in  his 
possession  a  silver  ewer  of  great  weight  and  exquisite 
workmanship,  one  of  the  master-pieces  of  Boetlius 
a  celebrated  Carthaginian  sculptor,  which  had  descends 
ed  to  him  from  his  ancestors,  was  forced  to  part  with 
it,  without  the  slightest  hope  of  compensation,  at  the 
demand  of  Verres,  and  was  but  too  happy  to  preserve 
a  pair  of  cups,  which  had  also  been  ordered  to  be 
brought  for  his  inspection,  by  bribing  two  of  his  con- 
fidants to  assure  him,  that  they  were  of  inferior 
execution  and  altogether  unworthy  a  place  in  the 
collection  of  a  connoisseur.  Diodorus  of  Melita,  who 
attempted  to  preserve  two  chalices  richly  chased  by 
the  hands  of  Mentor,  which  Verres  had  hinted  a 
wish  to  see,  by  prudently  withdrawing  with  them 
from  Sicily,  was  immediately  impeached,  by  his 
detestable  instruments,  of  a  crime  of  which  he  was 
altogether  innocent.  This  attempt  to  recal  him  how- 
ever entirely  failed.  Diodorus  having  repaired  to  Rome, 
represented  to  his  patrons  and  friends  in  that  city  the 
manner  in  which  he  had  been  treated  in  such  strong 
terms,  that  letters  were  despatched  to  Verres  w^aming 
him  of  the  danger  to  which  he  was  exposing  himself. 
The  prosecution  was  therefore  reluctantly  dropped, 
but  Diodorus  was  only  able  to  preserve  his  plate  by 


42 


THE    LIFE   OF    ClCERO. 


It 


a  voluntary  exile  of  three  years*  duration.  The  young 
Antiochus,  king  of  Syria,  was  more  successfully  en- 
trapped and  despoiled,  in  consequence  of  his  youth 
and  simplicity.  This  prince,  on  his  return  from  Rome, 
whither  he  had  proceeded,  in  company  with  his  brother, 
to  urge  in  person  his  claims  upon  Egypt,  was  sump- 
tuously banqueted  by  the  praetor,  who  exhibited 
every  thing  of  rarity  and  value  which  he  possessed 
for  his  entertainment.  Antiochus  was  not  slow  in 
returning  the  compliment,  and  heedlessly  displayed, 
in  his  turn,  a  number  of  precious  vessels,  which  his 
guest  secretly  formed  the  resolution  of  making  his 
own  without  further  delay.  Among  these  were  seve- 
ral cups  of  solid  gold  richly  adorned  with  gems,  and 
a  wine  chalice  which  was  composed  of  a  single  jewel 
of  inestimable  price,  all  far  exceeding  the  richest  ves- 
sels which  the  avarice  of  Verres  had  hitherto  been 
able  to  accumulate.  On  the  morning  succeeding  the 
entertainment,  therefore,  he  sent  to  borrow  the  whole, 
on  the  pretence  of  showing  them  as  patterns  to  his 
own  engravers.  The  king,  little  acquainted  with  his 
character,  at  once  politely  granted  the  request.  The 
praetor,  however,  had,  at  the  same  time,  much  richer 
spoil  in  view.  He  had  heard  of  a  sumptuous  cande- 
labrum possessed  by  Antiochus,  composed  of  massive 
gold,  encrusted  with  jewels,  and  finished  in  the  most 
elaborate  style  of  art,  which  the  king  had  taken  to 
Rome  with  the  intention  of  dedicating  it  in  the  temple 
of  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  but  finding  the  building  yet 
unfinished  had  determined  upon  carrying  back  with 
him  into  Syria,  until  the  place  should  be  ready  for  its 
reception.  Although  the  possession  of  this  costly 
offering  was  endeavoured  to  be  kept  secret,  Verres 
was,  by  some  means,  informed  of  it,  and  as  soon  as  he 
had  obtained  possession  of  the  other  valuables,  re- 
quested that  he  might  be  indulged  with  a  sight  of 
this  also.     It  was  accordingly  forwarded  under  the 


I 


THE    LIFE    OP    CrCERO.  43 

care  of  the  servants  of  Antiochus,  and  as  soon  as  it 
was  uncovered  excited  tlie  most  rapturous  exclama- 
tions of  delight    on    the   part  of  the   prgetor,  who 
affirming  that  one  day  would  be  wholly  insufficient 
for  a  full  appreciation   of  its  beauties,  desired  the 
servants,  as  they  w^ere  on  the  point  of  returning  with 
it  to  Antiochus,  to  leave  it  under  his  care  for  a  short 
time,  that    he  might   examine   it   more    at  leisure. 
Several  days  past,  but  the  king  heard  nothincr  more  of 
his  candelabrum.     His  servants  were  then  ordered  to 
request  that  it  might  be  restored,  but  were  twice  sent 
away  without    effi^cting    their   object.      Antiochus, 
therefore,  determined  upon  seeking  its  restitution  in 
person,  when  he  was  astounded  by  a  direct  solicita- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  praetor,  that  he  would  allow 
him  to  retain  the  candelabrum  as  a  present.     It  was 
to  no  purpose  that  he  pleaded  his  inability  to  comply 
with  this  impudent  demand,  on  the  ground,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  divert  an  offijring,  already  dedicated 
in  intention  as  an  ornament  to  the  temple  of  Jupiter, 
from  the  purpose  to  which  it  was  consecrated.  Verres 
proceeded  from  entreaties  to  tlireats,  and,  finding  these 
ineffectual,  at  last  brought  the  conference  to  an  end, 
by  peremptorily  ordering  the  king  to  leave  his  pro- 
vince before  sunset,  asserting  with  the  utmost  effrontery, 
that  he  had  discovered  it  to  be  in  imminent  danger  of 
being  invaded  by  a  piratical  armament  despatched 
from  Syria  for  the  purpose.     To  this  there  was  but 
one   method   of  reply.      Antiochus   instantly   pro- 
ceeded from  the  palace  of  Verres  to  the  Forum  of 
Syracuse,  and  there,  in  an  oration  frequently  interrupt- 
ed by  tears,  having  made  public  all  the  circumstances 
of  the  transaction,  called  upon  the  whole  multitude 
to  witness,  that  while  he  took  little  account  of  the 
robbery  committed  upon  his  own  property,  he  solemnly 
and  openly  consecrated,  in  the  sight  of  all  men  and  in 
the  name  of  all  the  Gods,  the  candelabrum  retained  by 


44 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


.1 


Verres  to  the  service  for  which  it  was  originally 
destined.  After  this  ineffectual  exposure  of  the  in- 
justice of  his  plunderer,  he  immediately  embarked  and 
set  sail  for  his  own  dominions.* 

Such  were  some  of  the  most  notorious  instances  of 
avarice  and  oppression  by  which  the  prsetorship  of 
Verres  was  distinguished.  But  crimes  of  a  much 
deeper  dye  formed  a  part  of  the  long  list  of  charges 
against  him.  Unbounded  as  his  covetousness  might 
appear,  it  was  completely  thrown  into  the  shade  by 
his  cruelty.  It  was  frequently  his  custom  when  any 
vessel,  laden  with  a  rich  freight,  arrived  in  the  Sicilian 
ports,  to  seize  it,  under  the  pretext  of  its  being  manned 
by  the  adherents  of  Sertorius.t  The  cargoes,  of  course, 
were  confiscated  to  the  praetor's  use.  But  the  wretched 
crews,  many  of  whom  were  Roman  citizens,  were 
effectually  precluded  from  the  possibility  of  appealing 
against  him  at  a  future  time,  by  being  hurried  into  those 
frightful  dungeons,  the  quarries  or  Latomiae  of  Syra- 
cuse, and  there  secretly  strangled  without  the  formality 
of  a  trial.  One  of  these  intended  victims,  Caius  Gavins, 
havmg  been  so  fortunate  as  to  escape  and  make  his 
way  to  Messana,  with  the  intention  of  crossing  over 
into  Italy,  was  imprudent  enough  in  his  premature  con- 
fidence of  being  beyond  the  reach  of  his  persecutor,  to 
threaten  the  retribution  of  a  final  impeachment  at 
Rome,  for  the  unjust  imprisonment  of  one  of  its 
citizens.  For  this  he  was  secretly  denounced  to  the 
magistrates  of  Messana,  who,  as  companions  in  his 
vilJanies,  were  wholly  in  the  interests  of  Verres,  and 
immediately  apprehended  by  their  command.  It  hap- 
pened, unfortunately  for  the  fugitive,  that  the  praetor 
arrived  the  same  day  at  Messana,  and  was  at  once 
made  acquainted  with  his  apprehension  and  its  cause. 
Infuriated  by  the  information,  and  the  prospect  of  the 
danger  he  had  narrowly  avoided,  the  official  tyrant 
hastened  into  the  Forum  and  summoning  Gavius  before 


*  In  Verrem,  v.  xxvii. 


f  In  Verr.  vi.  xxviii. 


\) 


\ 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


45 


him,  accused  him  of  being  a  spy,  and  without  strength- 
ening his  accusation  by  the  testimony  of  a  single  wit- 
ness, ordered  him,  as  such,  to  be  instantly  scourged 
and  crucified.  It  was  to  no  purpose  that  the  miser- 
able sufferer  repeatedly  exclaimed,  in  arrest  of  judgment, 
and  while  enduring  the  ignominy  and  torture  of  the 
first  part  of  his  punishment,  that  he  was  a  Roman 
citizen  and  could  bring  satisfactory  evidence  of  the 
fact.*  The  whole  of  the  frightful  sentence -was  re- 
morselessly executed  upon  him,  and,  by  a  horrible 
refinement  of  cruelty,  the  cross  to  which  he  was 
attached  was  erected  upon  the  sea-shore  in  full  sight 
of  the  Italian  coast,  that,  amidst  his  dying  agonies, 
he  might  be  tormented  with  the  sight  of  the  place 
of  refuge  which  he  had  flattered  himself  with  reach- 
ing, and  from  which,  had  he  once  gained  it,  he  might 
safely  have  defied  the  hatred  and  power  of  Verres  to 
injure  him  further. 

As  the  whole  of  the  Mediterranean  at  that  time 
swarmed  with  pirates,  who  were  sufficiently  nu- 
merous to  man  regular  fleets  and  to  form  the  popu- 
lation of  considerable  cities,  it  was  customary  for  the 
Roman  praetors  in  Sicily  to  fit  out  a  number  of  ves- 
sels against  them  annually,  at  the  expense  of  the  mari- 
time towns.  But  Verres,  who  never  lost  an  opportu- 
nity of  sacrificing  the  public  welfare  to  his  own 
private  interests,  contrived  to  render  this  force  com- 
pletely inefficient.  Several  towns  were  allowed  to 
compound  for  the  ships  they  were  required  to  furnish  ; 

♦  By  the  Porcian  law,  passed  a.  u.  c.  455,  it  was  declared  un- 
lawful to  bind,  scourge,  or  put  to  death  any  Roman  citizen,  unless 
by  the  sentence  of  a  general  assembly  of  the  people,  to  which  he 
was  at  all  times  entitled  to  appeal.  But  the  enactment  of  Porcius 
only  revived  the  more  ancient  statute  of  Valerius  Pubiicola  to  the 
same  effect ;  and  Cicero  speaks  of  the  privilege  aa  possessed  even  in 
the  time  of  the  ancient  kings  ;  "Provocation  em  autem  etiam  aregibus 
fuisse  declarant  pontificii  libri,  significant  nostri  etiam  augurales." — 
De  Republica,  lib.  ii.  cap.  31. 


46 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


all  among  the  crews  of  those  actually  sent,  who  could 
purchase  an  exemption  from  personal  service,  were  in- 
vited to  do  so,  and  large  sums,  which  should  have  been 
expended  in  equipping  and  provisioning  the  armament, 
were  diverted  by  the  praetor  to  his  own  use.  The  con- 
sequence was,  that  the  vessels  were  but  half  manned 
and  totally  unfit  to  encounter  a  vigilant  and  well 
provided  enemy.  At  the  time  appointed  for  their 
putting  to  sea,  Verres,  instead  of  being  present  to 
superintend  their  departure,  was  indulging  himself  in 
a  luxurious  retirement  near  the  fountain  of  Arethusa  ; 
and  it  was  not  until  the  seven  galleys  under  the  com- 
mand of  Cleomenes,  which  composed,  or  rather  repre- 
sented, the  Sicilian  fleet,  were  standing  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  harbour  of  Syracuse,  that  he  at  length 
made  his  appearance  on  the  shore,  effeminately  clad, 
according  to  the  celebrated  picture  drawn  of  him  by 
Cicero,  in  a  purple  cloak,  with  an  under  vest  reach- 
ing nearly  to  the  ground,  instead  of  the  usual  military 
garb,  with  slippers  on  his  feet,  and  leaning  on  the 
shoulder  of  one  of  his  courtesans.  After  the  force, 
which  had  departed  under  such  unwarlike  auspices, 
had  made  the  promontory  and  port  of  Pachynus  in 
a  voyage  of  five  days,  (at  the  end  of  which,  the  sailors 
were  so  distressed  with  hunger,  in  consequence  of^the 
failure  of  the  provisions  on  board,  as  to  be  obliged  to 
collect  the  roots  of  the  wild  palms  for  their  sustenance,) 
news  was  suddenly  brought  to  the  admiral  Cleo- 
menes, that  the  piratical  force  of  which  he  was  in 
quest  was  anchored  in  the  adjoining  harbour  of 
Edissa.  An  instant  and  disgraceful  flight  was  the 
result.  The  admiral,  hastily  slipping  his  cables  and 
hoisting  all  sail,  was  in  a  short  time  out  of  sight. 
The  other  galleys,  whose  captains  had  prepared  *for 
battle  and  would  have  readily  offered  it,  had  they  not 
considered  themselves  bound  to  imitate  his  example, 
followed  more  slowly.     Two  of  them  were,  in  conse' 


I 


r. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


47 


> 


\\i 


I 


quence,  speedily  overtaken  and  captured,  with  all  on 
board,  by  the  pirates,  and  the  rest,  after  rejoining 
Cleomenes,  who  had  made  good  his  way  to  Helorus, 
were  so  closely  pressed,  that  their  crews  had  only  time 
to  escape  to  the  shore,  before  they  were  boarded  by 
the  pursuers,  who,  after  removing  every  thing  of  value 
from  them,  committed  the  whole,  including  the  galley 
of  Cleomenes,  a  vessel  of  four  banks  of  oars,  to  the 
flames.  But  the  disgrace  inflicted  upon  the  Roman 
government  did  not  end  here.  Heracleo,  the  captain 
of  the  piratical  force,  confident  that  nothing  was 
now  left  to  oppose  him,  sailed  on  the  next  day  for 
the  port  of  Syracuse,  from  which  the  conflagration  of 
the  fleet  of  Cleomenes  had  been  distinctly  seen,  with 
four  light  vessels ;  and  while  Verres,  still  stupified 
from  the  effect  of  the  excesses  of  the  previous  night, 
was  assailed  by  universal  clamours  and  insults, 
coolly  cruised  round  the  harbour  at  his  leisure ; 
knowing,  adds  the  indignant  orator  by  whom 
the  circumstance  has  been  recorded,  that  if  he 
did  not  visit  a  place  so  worthy  of  his  curiosity  during 
the  praetorship  of  Verres,  he  would,  assuredly,  never 
find  another  opportunity  of  doing  so.* 

Little  as  he  had  hitherto  appeared  to  esteem  his 
own  reputation,  Verres  was  now  obliged,  by  the  tem- 
pest of  reproaches  and  complaints  which  was  raised 
in  all  directions  against  him,  to  make  some  attempts 
to  exculpate  himself  from  the  blame  attached  to  an 
enterprise,  the  failure  of  which  every  one  attributed 
to  his  incapacity  and  avarice.  But  this  could  only 
be  done  by  the  sacrifice  of  others  less  guilty  than  him- 
self. Cleomenes,  who  had  been  first  to  set  the  example 
of  cowardice,  was  too  valuable  an  instrument  towards 
his  own  exculpation,  to  be  included  in  the  list  of  his 
victims.  He,  therefore,  prevailed  upon  him  by  threats 
to  assert,  that  the  ships  had  been  fully  manned  and 
amply   supplied  with   every  necessary.     The  other 

•  In  Verr.  vi.  xxxvi. 


48 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


49 


commanders  who  bad  escaped,  and  who  were  young 
men  of  the  highest  rank  in  SjTracuse,  were  then,  by 
his  orders,  thrown  into  chains  and  condemned,  as 
having  traitorously  surrendered  their  ships  to  the 
pirates,  Cleomenes  himself  being  shameless  enough 
to  take  his  seat  l)eside  Verres  on  the  tribunal  when 
sentence  of  death  was  passed  upon  them.  It  was  in 
vain  that  their  parents  and  friends  used  every  means 
to  soften  the  cmel  disposition  of  the  pr^tor,  who  had 
too  valuable  interests  at  stake,  on  this  occasion,  to 
be  accessible  to  the  ordinary  method  of  bribery. 
Although  many  of  the  former  passed  whole  nights  at 
the  threshold  of  the  public  prison,  entreating  at  least 
to  be  allowed  to  take  a  last  farewell  of  their  unhappy 
relatives,  this  favour  was  only  to  be  purchased  at  a 
high  price,  and  an  equally  extravagant  sum  was  re- 
quired, for  the  speedy  despatch  of  the  criminals,  by 
the  executioner,  who  threatened,  if  his  demand  was 
not  complied  with,  to  compel  them  to  pass  through 
protracted  sufferings  before  their  death,  instead  of 
terminating  their  existence  by  a  single  blow. 

A  short  time  before  this  occurrence,  the  crew^  of  a 
vessel,  the  piratical  character  of  which  was  no  mat- 
ter of  doubt,  had  been  taken  near  Megaris,  and 
brought  into  Syracuse  as  captives.  The  people,  w^ho 
had  often  seen  the  severity  of  Verres  mercilessly 
exercised  upon  the  guiltless,  expected  that  he  would 
certainly  not  allow  those  who  were  actually  culpable 
to  escape.  But  they  were  little  acquainted  with  the 
full  baseness  of  character  possessed  by  their  iniquitous 
governor.  All  the  youthful  and  able-bodied  among 
the  criminals  were  presented  as  slaves  to  his  friends, 
instead  of  being  brought  to  condign  punishment. 
The  captain  of  the  vessel  was  remanded  to  secret 
confinement,  in  the  hope  that  he  might  offer  an  extra- 
vagant bribe  for  the  preservation  of  his  life.  A  few 
of  the  more  aged  or  less  prepossessing  in  appearance 


I 


among  the  pirates  were  publicly  put  to  death ;  but 
since  the  people,  as  yet  unsatisfied,  were  loud  in 
demanding  the  punishment  of  the  whole,  Verres 
ordered  a  number  of  Roman  citizens,  who  had  long 
been  confined  in  his  dungeons,  to  be  led  forth  with 
their  heads  and  faces  carefully  muffled,  that  their 
features  might  not  be  recognised,  and,  rejoicing 
in  the  opportunity  of  ridding  himself  of  all  further 
anxiety  on  their  account,  caused  them  to  be  bai*ba- 
rously  executed  in  the  place  of  the  real  culprits. 

Against  this  enormous  criminal,  it  might  have 
been  expected  that  the  efforts  of  Cicero  would  be 
seconded  by  the  horror  and  indignation  of  all  ranks 
and  classes  at  Rome,  and  that  the  general  voice  of 
humanity  would  be  raised  to  insist  upon  the  condemna- 
tion of  an  individual  who  had  so  repeatedly  and  un- 
blushingly  violated  every  one  of  its  laws.  Whatever 
might  have  been  the  feelings  of  the  common  people 
\ipon  the  subject,  however,  Verres  found  a  numerous 
.and  powerful  party  among  the  patricians,  ready  to 
stand  forth  in  his  defence.  He  had  been  heard  to 
boast,  that  he  should  be  very  well  satisfied  to  expend 
the  proceeds  of  two  years  of  spoliation  in  defeating  the 
ends  of  justice,  provided  he  were  allowed  to  retain  for 
himself  the  profits  of  the  third.  The  result  proved  that 
no  efforts  of  the  higher  orders  in  his  favour  were  un- 
purchaseable. Hortensius,  though  almost  on  the 
point  of  being  declared  consul  elect,  assumed  the 
title  and  offices  of  his  patron  and  partisan,  and  a 
crowd  of  the  distinguished  nobility  followed  his 
example.  Such  was,  at  this  time,  the  disgraceful 
countenance  afforded  by  the  most  eminent  in  dignity 
and  title  to  a  monster  of  injustice  when  threatened 
with  the  punishment  due  to  his  guilt !  the  most  sar- 
castic commentary  upon  which  is  to  be  found  in  the 
pleadings  of  Cicero  in  this  cause,  who  asserts  that  the 
people  of  the  subject  provinces  had  actually  formed 


i 


50 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERd. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


51 


the  design  of  petitioning  for  a  repeal  of  the  existing 
law  against  extortion  on  the  part  of  the  Roman 
magistrates.  "  And  there  can  be  no  doubt,"  he  argnes, 
*'  that  they  would  be  greatly  benefited  by  the  change. 
For,  in  that  case,  the  governors  sent  into  the  pro- 
vinces would  be  content  to  plunder  only  to  a  sufficient 
extent  to  accumulate  immense  fortunes  for  them- 
selves. At  present  they  are  obliged,  in  addition  to 
this,  to  acquire  enough  to  serve  as  bribes  for  their 
future  judges  at  home." 

The  first  difficulty  thrown  in  the  way  of  the  pro- 
secution was  the  appearance  of  a  rival  advocate. 
The  ambassadors  from  Sicily,  after  laying  their 
grounds  of  complaint  before  Cicero,  had  reminded  him 
of  his  promise  made  at  Lilybaeum,  on  the  expiration  of 
his  qusestorship,  of  exerting  his  abilities  and  influence 
in  their  favour,  if  these  should  at  any  future  time  be 
needed,  and  earnestly  entreated  him  to  fulfil  his 
agreement  by  taking  the  lead  in  the  proceedings  against 
their  late  oppressor.  But,  before  entering  on  the  im- 
peachment, he  was  opposed  by  QuintusCaecilius  Niger, 
a  Sicilian  by  descent,  who  had  recently  filled  the  office 
of  quEestor  to  Verres,  and  who,  although  he  pretended 
to  act  as  his  accuser,  in  consequence  of  certain  injuries 
received  at  his  hands,  was  more  than  suspected  of 
having  been  bribed  by  him  to  dispute  the  prosecution 
with  Cicero,  and,  if  successful,  to  ruin  the  cause  of 
the  Sicilians  by  managing  it  in  a  manner  best  suited 
to  the  interests  of  the  defendant.  This  first  plan, 
Ikowever  ingeniously  devised,  completely  failed.  The 
oration  of  Cicero  against  the  claims  and  pretensions 
of  Csecilius,  still  extant,  and  which  is  of  the  kind  to 
which  the  Romans  gave  the  technical  name  of 
"  Divinatio,"  left  his  antagonist  without  a  prospect 
of  success,  and  he  was  accordingly  appointed  to  arraign 
the  official  conduct  of  the  ex-praetor  according  to  the 
usual   form*.      For  the   purpose,  of  collecting   the 

*  Dr.  Middlcton,  following  Asconiu3,  states,  that  the  '♦  Divinatio 


ft 


tcquisite  evidence,  he  paid  a  second  visit  to  Sicily. 
Here  he  was  at  once  presented  with  the  most  pal- 
pable proofs  of  the  misery  and  want  induced    by 
the    pernicious    government   of  Verres.      The   fer- 
tile    districts    of   ^tna,    Agyra,    and    Leontium, 
which  he  had  left,  four  years  before,   waving   with 
harvests,  or  glowing  with  the  richest  vintages,  pre- 
sented the   aspect  of  wild  and  melancholy  wastes ; 
being  as  completely  desolated  by  the  hand  of  civil 
tyranny,  as  if  they  had  been  the   theatre  of  a  pro- 
tracted and  destructive  war  *.     "  On  every  side," 
says  the  orator,  "  the  fields  appeared  to  mourn  the  loss 
of  their  former  tenants,  and  to  implore  the  hand  of  the 
cultivator ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  most  productive 
part  of  Sicily,  I  looked  for  Sicily  in  vain  t."     After 
spending  fifty  days  in  the  several  cities,  where  he 
diligently  employed   himself  in  examining  witnesses 
and  selecting  the  best  supported  cases  of  oppression 
from  an  innumerable  list  of  charges,  he  again  re- 
turned to  Rome,  laden  with  additional  honours  by 
the  people  whose  injuries   he    had  undertaken   to 
avenge,  to  bring  the  cause  of  Verres  to  a  speedy  issue. 
It  was  now  the  policy  of  the  friends  of  the  accused 
to  defer  the  trial  until  the  early  part  of  the  ensuing 
year,  when  many  of  them  would  be  in  office,  and 
the  places  vacated  by  several  of  the  present  judges 
filled  by  others,  upon  whom  the  expedient  of  bribery 

in  Cwcilium"  was  pronounced  by  Cicero  after  his  election  to  the 
sedileship.  That  tliis  could  not  have  been  the  case  may  easily  be 
proved.  The  first  oration  against  Verres,  as  appears  from  a  passage 
in  the  speech  itself,  was  delivered  on  the  5th  of  August,  **  Nonte 
sunt  hodie  Sextiles,  hork  nonk  con  venire  coepistis." — In  Verr.  i.  10  ; 
and  in  this  Cicero  states,  that  the  comitia  were  only  just  over — 
"  His  diehus  paucis  comitiis  consularibus  factis."  Yet,  fifty  days 
were  spent  after  the  Divinatio  in  collecting  evidence  in  Sicily.  See 
<*  Fasti  Hellenici,"iii.  167, 

•  In  Verr.  iv.  18. 

f  Campus  Leontinus  sic  erat  deformis  atque  horridus,  ut  in  uber- 
limk  Sicilise  parte  Siciliam  quaereremus. — Ibid. 

£  2 


52 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


might  be  tried  with  a  more  favourable  result.     It 
was  also  imagined  that  L.  Metellus,  at  the  time  praetor 
elect  of  Sicily,  who  was  known  to  favour  the  interests 
of  Verres,  would  then  be  able  to  terrify  the  Sicilians 
into  a  total  abandonment,  or  but  a  feeble  prosecution 
of  their  claims  to  justice.     But  the  prudence  and 
activity  of  Cicero  disappointed  all  these  expectations. 
Instead  of  employing  a  hundred  and  ten  days,  the  , 
space  he  had  at  first  demanded,  in  his  investigations 
in  Sicily,  he  had,  as  has  been  seen,  made  all  the 
necessary  preparations  in  less  than  half  the  time ; 
and  finding,  at  the  commencement  of  the  trial,  that 
the  partisans  of  Verres  were  indulging  themselves  with 
the  hope  that  the  cause  would  be  opened  by  long 
speeches  on  the  part  of  the  rival  advocates  ;  by  which 
means  the  intervention  of  the  public  games  and  holi- 
days would  have  transferred  the  proceedings  for  ulti- 
mate decision  to  the  tribunal  of  a  different  praetor,  he 
determined  upon  adopting  the  plan  of  bringing  for- 
ward the  evidence  at  once,  without  any  lengthened 
introduction  or  comment,  and  relying  for  success  on 
the  weight  of  the  testimony  of  his  witnesses  alone. 
Of  the  noble  series  of  orations,  therefore,  which  are 
published  under  the  title  of  his    "Pleadings  against 
Verres,"     the   first     alone   was    actually   delivered 
before    Marcus    Glabrio,    the   presiding   magistrate. 
Hortensius  finding  that  he  had  only  witnesses  to  cross- 
examine,  and  that  he  was  precluded  from  the  possibility 
of  delaying  the  cause  by  frivolous  objections  and  pro- 
tracted replies,   abandoned  the  defence   as  hopeless ; 
and  Verres,  well  knowing,  from  the  mass  of  evidence 
arrayed  againt  him,  what  must  inevitably  be  the 
sentence  of  his  judges,  withdrew  into  voluntary  exile. 
The  fine  laid  upon  his  estate  by  the  estimation  of 
Cicero,  fell  far  short  of  what  had  been  anticipated,  and, 
indeed,  of  what  his  accuser  himself  had  originally 
proposed ;  and  there  is  some  difficulty  in  accounting 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICEEO.  53 

for  this  after  display  of  leniency.  He  was  not, 
however,  suffered  to  escape  that  fate  which,  either 
sooner  or  later,  is  generally  found  to  overtake  the 
shedder  of  innocent  blood.  After  many  years  of 
comparative  penury,  induced  by  his  extravagance,  in 
which  he  is  said  to  have  been  relieved  by  his  former 
prosecutor,  he  was  proscribed  by  Mark  Antony  for 
some  of  the  works  of  art  still  in  his  possession,  which 
he  had  acquired  during  his  praetorship  in  Sicily,  and 
soon  afterwards  assassinated  by  the  ready  agents  of 
the  triumvir. 

The  orations  of  Cicero  in  the  cause  of  Verres,  ex- 
clusive of  the  opening  speech  against  Caecilius,  are 
six  in  number,  and  each  may  be  considered  a  model 
of  impassioned  and  indignant  eloquence.  That  en- 
titled *'  De  Signis,"  on  the  subject  of  the  spoliations 
committed  by  Verres  in  regard  to  works  of  art,  has 
y  been  often  deservedly  admired ;  but  the  sixth,  "  De 

Suppliciis,"  or  respecting  the  unjust  punishments 
inflicted  by  the  praetor,  passages  from  which  are  to 
be  found  in  almost  every  work  yet  published  upon 
oratory,  rises  far  above  the  rest  in  dignity,  energy, 
and  pathos.  The  narration  of  the  death  of  Gavius, 
with  all  its  aggravated  circumstances  of  horror — 
the  unjust  condemnation  of  the  criminal — his  useless 
appeals  to  his  Roman  citizenship— the  indignities 
inflicted  upon  him  before  his  execution,  and  his 
agonising  death  within  view  of  the  Italian  shore, — is 
sufficiently  known,  and  cannot  but  be  considered  ss 
well  entitled  to  the  commendations  hitherto  bestowed 
upon  it.  But  descriptions,  equally  affecting,  abound 
throughout  the  whole  speech ;  which  Cicero  never 
exceeded,  in  the  particular  merits  for  which  it  is 
famous,  even  when  his  reputation  was  at  its  height. 
The  noblest  figures  are  so  thickly  scattered  through- 
out it,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  select  a  page  from 
which  the  art  of  rhetoric  might  not  receive  some  new 


54 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO, 


and  appropriate  illustration;  and,  notwithstanding 
the  well-authenticated  fact  of  its  never  having  been 
really  spoken,  so  strong  is  the  delusion  of  the  art 
with  which  it  has  been  composed,  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  believe  it  to  have  been  anything  but  the 
extemporaneous  effusion  of  an  anger  and  pity  armed 
with  extraordinary  energy  of  utterance  by  the 
singular  magnitude  of  the  offences  and  injuries  to 
which  these  feelings  owed  their  birth,  and  supplying 
the  speaker  with  expressions,  which  appear  to  mount 
just  as  the  excited  feelings  of  his  audience  might 
have  been  expected  to  demand  successive  additions 
to  their  vividness  and  strength.  Nor  is  the  power  of 
fervid  accusation  and  blighting  sarcasm  contained  in 
this,  and  in  all  the  other  orations  upon  the  same 
subject,  less  remarkable  ;  under  which,  if  he  had  been 
hardy  enough  to  abide  his  trial  to  its  conclusion,  the 
convicted  criminal  must  have  stood  forth  as  a  with- 
ered and  abhorred  object  of  popular  scorn  and  exe- 
cration *. 

*  Not  to  dwell  upon  the  famous  description  of  Verres  in  his 
dissolute  seclusion  at  the  springs  of  Arcthusa,  and  his  appearance 
at  the  departure  of  the  Sicilian  armament — *'  Stetit  soleatus  po- 
puli  Romani  praetor,"  &c.  it  would  be  difficult  to  exceed  in  satiric 
point  the  less  commonly  quoted  account  of  his  winter  retirement 
at  Syracuse,  and  summer  progress  through  the  various  cities  under 
his  government.  **  In  the  first  place,"  says  his  accuser,  '*  hear  how 
easy  this  illustrious  personage,  rendered,  by  exercise  of  reason  and  dis- 
cretion, the  labour  of  moving  from  one  spot  to  another,  which  is  of 
the  greatest  importance  in  all  military  operations,  and  especially 
needful  in  the  province  of  Sicily.  During  the  winter  season  he  took 
care  to  provide  an  honourable  refuge  against  the  severity  of  frosts  and 
the  force  of  rains  and  tempests,  by  selecting  as  his  abode  the  city  of 
Syracuse,  which  is  blessed  by  Nature  with  so  favourable  a  situation, 
and  so  pure  an  atmosphere,  as  to  give  authority  to  the  saying,  that 
no  day  was  ever  known  to  pass  there,  however  dark  and  stormy^ 
during  which  the  sun  was  not  visible  at  some  hour  ;  and  in  this 
retreat  the  illustrious  general  spent  his  winter  months  in  such  a 
manner  as  seldom  to  be  seen,  I  will  not  say  beyond  his  threshold, 
but  even  out  of  his  bed — wasting  equally  the  contracted  days  and 


h 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO*  55 

There  cati  be  no  doubt  that  the  rhetorical  abilities 
of  Cicero  were  considered  as,  at  least,  equal  to  those 
possessed  by  the  most  illustrious  pleaders  who  had 
yet  graced  the  Roman  Forum,  in  consequence  of 
these  splendid  exhibitions  of  talent.  It  is,  how- 
ever,  evident,  that  his  exertions  against  Verres 
were  far  from  ensuring  him  any  favour  on  the  part 
of  the  nobility.  From  certain  expressions,  in  his 
first  speech  in  the  cause,  it  may  be  inferred  that  his 
life  was  actually  threatened,  and  all  but  attempted, 
though  the  agency  of  some  oiPthe  more  powerful  parti- 
sans of  the  accused  praetor,  while  he  was  on  his  way 
from  Sicily.  And,  unquestionably,  the  haughty  indig- 
nation of  the  Scipios  and  Metelli  might  be  expected  to 

lengthened  nights  in  revelry  and  licentiousness.  When,  however, 
the  spring  made  its  appearance,  and  the  commencement  of  this 
season  was  signified  to  him,  not  by  the  breathings  of  Favonius,  or 
the  sight  of  any  star, — since  it  was  only  when  his  attention  was 
attracted  by  the  first  full-blown  rose  presented  to  him,  that  he  con- 
jectured the  spring  to  have  actually  begun — he  at  length  summoned 
resolution  enough  to  devote  himself  to  his  toilsome  and  fatiguing 
journeys,  in  which  he  aflbrded  so  remarkable  an  example  of 
activity  and  endurance,  as  never  to  be  seen  even  on  horseback. 
For,  after  the  manner  of  the  Bithynian  kings,  he  was  carried  in  a 
litter  borne  by  eight  attendants,  reclining  on  a  pillow  composed  of 
the  transparent  muslin  of  Melite,  stuffed  with  roses,  with  a  garland 
6f  the  same  flowers  upon  his  head,  another  round  his  neck,  and 
holding  in  his  hand  a  reticule,  also  filled  with  roses,  made  of  the 
finest  lawn,  and  embroidered  with  minute  spots,  which  he  frequently 
applied  to  his  nostrils.  After  reaching  in  this  guise  the  place  of  his 
destination,  he  was  carried  in  the  same  litter,  without  jiligh ting,  to 
his  very  bedchamber.  Thither  assembled  the  Sicilian  magistrates, 
as  well  as  the  Roman  knights  ;  and  in  this  shameful  retirement,  as 
you  have  heard  from  many  witnesses,  causes  were  secretly  heard, 
the  decisions  in  which  were  afterwards  reversed  openly.  After 
thus  spending  a  short  "time  in  giving  sentences,  according  to  the 
sums  offered  him  by  way  of  bribe,  rather  than  from  any  regard  to  the 
justice  of  the  case,  his  remaining  hours  were  devoted  to  intoxication 
and  sensuality."  (InVer.  ii.  cap.  vi.  11.)  It  would  be  easy  to  adduce 
fiimilar  instances,  did  the  limits,  to  which  a  popular  work  is  neces- 
sarily restricted  permit,  or  were  not  the  ablest  orations  injured  by 
the  citation  of  unconnected  passages,  ' 


56 


THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO. 


be  aroused,  to  no  limited  extent,  by  the  boldness  of  one 
who  was  not  yet  even  entitled  to  the  contemptuous 
appellation  of  "  a  new  man,"  in  attempting  to  drag 
to  merited  justice  the  culprit  whom  they  were  bent 
upon  defending.  Another  cause  for  the  hatred  of  the 
upper  ranks  must  have  existed  in  his  style  of  com- 
ment upon  one  of  the  most  important  concessions 
lately  made  to  the  nobility.  The  privilege  of  con- 
stituting the  "  judices"  or  jury  in  criminal  trials,  after 
lonty  fluctuating  between  the  knights  and  senators, 
was,  during  the  dictatorship  of  Sylla,  at  length 
determinately  assigned  to  the  latter.  The  middle 
classes  clamoured  fiercely  for  the  repeal  of  this  enact- 
ment, and  the  restoration  of  their  judicial  fimctions 
to  the  equestrian  order,  and  Cicero  was  far  from 
appearing  at  this  time  to  controvert  the  propriety  of 
the  alteration.  At  all  events,  he  holds  forth  the 
general  feeling  upon  the  subject  as  a  salutary  warning 
to  those  in  office  to  perform  their  duties  with  an 
impartiality  widely  inconsistent  with  the  general 
practices  of  the  corrupt  aristocracy  of  the  time. 

By  whatever  signs  of  dissatisfaction  on  the  part  of 
the  rich  and  the  powerful  he  might  have  been  met,  he 
proceeded,  undismayed  at  their  manifestation,  and 
only  ambitious  of  rising  to  further  distinctions  by 
honest  and  equitable  means,  to  pass  through  the  year 
of  his  aedileship  in  such  a  manner  as  greatly  to  in- 
crease his  popularity  with  the  middle  and  lower  orders 
of  Rome.  The  Sicilians,  grateful  for  his  late  exer- 
tions, supplied  him  gratuitously  with  abundant  stores 
of  corn,  which,  instead  of  making  them  a  source  of 
private  emolument  to  himself,  he  immediately  trans- 
ferred to  the  public  stock,  and  by  this  means  effected 
a  considerable  reduction  in  the  general  price  of  pro- 
visions. The  public  games  in  honour  of  Ceres, 
Bacchus,  and  Libera,  as  well  as  of  Flora,  and  those 
known  as  the  "  Ludi  Romani,"  consecrated  to  Ju^ 


THE   LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


57 


I 


I 


'I 


\ 


piter,  Juno,  and  Minerva,  the  presiding  divinities  of 
the  Capitol,  all  of  which  he  has  mentioned  as  incum- 
bent upon  him  to  regulate,  were  performed  in  the 
usual  manner  under  his  direction;  and  this  year  of 
his  life  is  only  further  distinguished  by  his  apj^ear- 
ance  for  the  defendants  in  two  causes  of  considerable 
note.  Marcus  Fonteius,  who  had  been  for  three  years 
prsetor  of  Gaul,  was,  on  his  return  to  Rome,  im- 
peached for  various  acts  of  misconduct  in  his  pro- 
vince ;  Induciomarus,  chief  of  the  Treviri,  being  his 
principal  accuser,  and  Marcus  Plsetorius  the  advo- 
cate entrusted  with  his  impeachment.     We  are  yet 
in  possession  of  a  considerable  fragment  of  the  speech 
of  Cicero  in  his  behalf,  and  there  is  too  much  reason 
to  believe,  from  the  line  of  argument  adopted  in  it, 
that  the  accusations  against  Fonteius  were,  as  usual 
in   such  cases,  well  founded.     The  oration  for  Aulus 
Cecina,  the  next  in  succession,  delivered  respecting 
the  right  possessed  by  his  client  to  a  certain  farm, 
from  the  occupancy  of  which  he  had  been  prohibited 
by   main   force,   beyond  a   display  of  considerable 
subtlety   on    the    part    of  the    advocate,    possesses 
but   little    interest.       Before    the    former   of  these 
causes  was   brought  to  trial   the  law   of  Aurelius 
Cotta  began  to  take  effect,  by  which  it  was  ordained, 
that  the" judices" should  for  the  future  be  chosen  from 
the  senatorian  and  equestrian  orders,  with  the  addition 
of  the  serarian  tribunes.     The  commons  had  also  by 
this  time  recovered  no  small  degree  of  power,  by  the 
restitution  of  their  original  privileges  to  the  tribunes 
of  thepeople,  whose  authority  had  been  for  some  time 
rendered,  to  a  great  extent,  inefficient  by  the  acts  of 
Sylla.     This  alteration  was  produced  by  the  exertions 
of  Pompey,  whose  interest  then  consisted  in  paying 
court  to  the  popular  party,  although,  at  a  subsequent 
period,^  he  thought  it  necessary  to  make  an  essential 
change* in  his  policy.    . 


53 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


In  the  general  history  of  his  country  the  period  of 
the  aedileship  of  Cicero  is  noted  for  the  dedication  of 
the  new  buildings  of  the  Capitol,  which  had  been 
burned  by  an  accidental  conflagration  about  five  years 
before.  The  ceremony  was  performed  by  Quintus 
Catulus  with  extraordinary  magnificence.  Sylla, 
who  had  superintended  the  erection  of  this  superb 
pile,  the  roof  of  which  was  overlaid  with  gold,  at  a 
cost  of  twelve  thousand  talents,  or  nearly  two  millions 
of  pounds  sterling,  had  complained  upon  his  death- 
bed, that  the  presiding  at  its  consecration  was  the 
only  thing  wanting  to  complete  the  uniform  course 
of  good  fortune  by  which  his  life  had  been  distin- 
guished. It  may  be  doubted,  however,  whether  Sylla 
himself  could  have  performed  the  ceremony  with  more 
lavish  pomp  than  was  displayed  on  the  occasion. 
Pliny  has  particularly  mentioned  an  instance  of  novel 
extravagance,  in  the  introduction  of  an  immense 
purple  awning,  extensive  enough  to  shelter  the  whole 
assembled  populace  from  the  heat  of  the  sun.  Such 
incidental  illustrations  of  the  luxury  of  the  times, 
scattered  throughout  the  writings  of  ancient  authors, 
although  not  intended  directly  to  illustrate  the  subject, 
throw  no  small  light  upon  the  causes  of  those  civil 
commotions  by  which  the  commonwealth  had  lately 
been  distracted,  and  to  which  it  was  soon  again  to 
be  exposed.  A  nobility  lavishing  vast  fortunes 
upon  the  entertainment  of  a  single  day — a  people 
wholly  engrossed  by  the  expectation  or  enjoyment  of 
such  amusements,  and  so  long  as  they  were  afforded, 
careless  by  whom,  or  from  what  sources,  they  were 
provided ; — surely,  if  all  other  causes  were  wanting, 
we  need  not  look  much  further  than  these  to  discover 
the  fertile  occasions  of  a  violence  and  anarchy  neces- 
sarily terminating  at  length  in  the  most  frightful 
form  of  despotism. 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


59 


CHAPTER  III. 

Election  of  Cicero  to  the  Prsetorsliip — His  Impartiality  in  the  Trial 
of  Licinius  Macer— Orations  for  Cluentius  and  Fundanius— 
Speech  in  Defence  of  the  Manilim  Law — Manilius  is  impeached 
Lefore  Cicero  for  Peculation — First  Letters  to  Atticus — Conspi- 
racy against  the  Consuls  Torquatus  and  Cotta — Oration  of  Cicero 
for  Publius  Cornelius — Consulate  of  Lucius  Julius  Caesar  and 
C.  Marcius  Figulus — Cicero  prepares  to  sue  for  the  Consulship 
— Meditates  the  Defence  of  Catiline — Delivers  his  Ora- 
tion "in  Toga  Candida" — He  is  elected  Consul — Origin  and 
Progress  of  the  Catilinarian  Conspii-acy — Cicero  defends  Quintus 
Gallius. 

The  popularity  which  Cicero  had  acquired  during 
his  aedileship  was  sufficiently  shown  to  be  undimi- 
nished, when,  two  years  afterwards,  he  offered  himself 
as  candidate  for  the  dignity  of  prastor.  His  talents 
and  his  readiness  to  exert  them  for  the  benefit  of  his 
fellow-citizens,  had,  by  this  time,  caused  him  to  be 
held  in  such  general  estimation,  that  his  house  upon 
the  Palatine  Hill,  the  same  which  had  been  occupied 
by  his  father  on  his  first  removal  to  Rome,  was  daily 
frequented  by  as  numerous  a  multitude  as  thronged 
to  the  levees  of  Pompey  and  Crassus.  The  former 
did  not  think  it  unbecoming  his  dignity  to  court  him 
openly  by  every  mark  of  respect,  and  to  the  influence 
of  this  powerful  ally  he  doubtless  owed  much  of  the 
facility  with  which  his  election  was  carried.  Of  the 
eight  praetors  chosen  he  was  returned  the  first  by  all  the 
centuries ;  but  as  he  speaks,  in  one  of  his  earlier  epistles 
to  Atticus,  in  terms  far  from  commendatory  of  his 
competitors  for  office,  this  honour  must  be  con- 
sidered as,  in  no  small  respect,  qualified  by  accompa- 
nying circumstances.  The  time  of  the  election  had, 
indeed,  been  delayed  in  consequence  of  malpractices 
on  the  part  of  those  who  werQ  seeking  for  the  higher 


60  THE   LIFE    OP    CICERO. 

magistracies,  which  had  become  so  notorious,  that  it 
was  considered  necessary  to  take  extraordinary  steps 
against  them  by  the  introduction  of  the  Calpurnian 
law,  ordaining  that  whoever  should  be  guilty  of  bribery 
or  corruption,  in  any  shape,  while  canvassing  the 
people,  should  not  only  be  heavily  fined,  but  declared 
incapable  of  holding  office,  or  taking  his  seat  in  the 
senate.  The  enactment  caused  considerable  commo- 
tion, but  so  necessary  did  it  appear,  from  existing 
circumstances,  that  the  senators  determined  that  no 
magistrates  for  the  ensuing  year  should  be  chosen  until 
it  had  assumed  the  form  of  a  binding  statute. 

In  the  early  ages  of  the  republic,  justice  was  ad- 
ministered by  two  praetors  alone,  whose  tribunals, 
distinguished  by  the  simple  insignia  of  a  spear  and 
sword,  planted  upright  before  them,  were  publicly 
erected  in  the  Forum.  The  first  of  these  magistrates, 
the  "  praetor  urbanus,"  decided  disputes  between  the 
citizens ;  the  second,  or  "  praetor  peregrinus,"  those 
in  which  one  or  both  of  the  parties  might  happen  to 
be  foreigners.  But  as  the  population  of  Rome  and 
the  extent  of  the  Empire  increased  fresh  praetors 
were,  from  time  to  time,  created.  During  the  dic- 
tatorship of  Sylla,  and  for  some  years  afterwards, 
eight  were  annually  elected,  six  of  whom,  while  the 
civil  actions  were  determined  by  two  of  their  num- 
ber as  before,  took  cognizance  of  criminal  charges, 
classed  under  as  many  heads  and  entitled  "  questiones 
perpetuae  ;"  as  the  jurisdiction  in  each  belonged  exclu- 
sively  to  a  particular  praetor  throughout  the  year  of 
his  office.-  The  division  was  as  follows  :  I.  Cases 
involving  extortion.  II.  Bribery  and  corruption. 
III.  Crimes  against  the  majesty  of  the  state  or 
cases  of  treason.  IV.  Peculation.  V.  Forgery ; — 
and  VI.  Murders  committed  either  by  force  or  by 
poison.  In  the  assignment  of  these  subjects  by  lot 
according  to  the  usual  custom,  Cicero  was  appointed 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO.  61 

to  the  office  of  presiding  at  trials  under  the  first  head. 
His  conduct  under  the  high  trust  which  his  country- 
men had  now  devolved  upon  him  is  mentioned  as 
remarkable  for  justice  and  impartiality,  of  which  an 
instance  was  given  in  the  cause  of  Licinius  Macer,  a 
person  of  praetorian  dignity  who  was  accused  before 
him  soon  after  his  entering  upon  office.      The   de- 
fendant in  this  action  was  so  confident  of  his  influ- 
ence with  the  judges,  and  in  the  support  of  Crassup, 
with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of  intimacy,  that  on  the 
day  of  trial  he  laid  aside  the  usual  mourning  dress 
worn  by  persons  in  such  circumstances,  and  returned 
home  from  the  Forum  in  great  state  and  amidst  a 
multitude  of  his  friends,  as  if  he  had  been  certain  of 
his  acquittal.     But  the  cause  was  so  equitably  man- 
aged by  Cicero,  that  the  judges,  attending  solely  to 
the  evidence  they  had  heard,  unanimously  gave  sen- 
tence against  him  ;  a  verdict  which  proved  fatal,  if  the 
ancient  historians  are  to  be  believed,  to  the  accused, 
who  is  recorded,on  the  receipt  of  the  intelligence  from 
his  patron  Crassus,  to  have  taken  immediately  to  his 
bed,  and  to  have  died,  a  short  time  afterwards,  from 
the  effi?cts  of  grief  and  disappointment.     In  his  fifth 
epistle  to  Atticus,  Cicero  asserts  that  his  decision  in 
this  cause  was  productive  of  singular  and  incredible 
goodwill  towards  him  on  the  part  of  the  people;  and 
that  he  had  gained    more  advantage,   by  his  impar- 
tiality on  the  occasion,  than  could  have  accrued  to  him 
by  the  favour  of  the  accused  if  he  had  acquitted  hnn. 
This  brief,  but  expressive  remark,   may  lend   mate- 
rial  assistance  towards  a  due   appreciation  of  the 
kind  of  justice  administered  in  those  ancient  courts, 
which  have  sometimes  been  mentioned  in  terras  of  un- 
merited eulogy, since  we  not  only  find  by  it  an  unbiassed 
decision  recorded  as  a  subject  of  popular  wonder  and 
applause,  but  that  even  the  magistrate  who  had  deli- 
vered it,  could  not  contemplate  without  some  compla- 


B2  THE   LIFE    OP    CiCERd. 

cency,  the  probability  of  not  being  a  loser  by  giving 
sentence  according  to  his  own  convictions  respecting 
the  merits  of  the  cause. 

As  his  office  of  praetor  by  no  means  precluded  him 
from  occasionally  exercising  his  former  functions  as 
advocate,  he  appeared  this  year  for  the  defendants  in 
more  than  one  remarkable  trial;  delivering  among 
others,  the  subjects  of  which  are  unknown,  his  oration 
for  Aulus  Cluentius  A  vitus,  who  was  accused  of  poi- 
soning his  father-in-law  Oppianicus.  The  principal 
agent  in  directing  the  prosecution  of  Cluentius  was  his 
.  own  mother  Sassia,  a  woman  whom  Cicero  paints  in  the 
darkest  colours,  and  whose  deceased  husband  Oppi- 
anicus had,  some  years  before,  been  actually  indicted 
for  an  attempt  to  poison  the  defendant  Cluentius.  The 
speech  of  Cicero  in  his  behalf,  though  not  in  his  best 
style,  has  always  been  considered  a  highly  finished 
specimen  of  eloquence.  The  pleadings  in  the  case  of 
Marcus  Fundanius,  which  are  also  attributed  to  the 
year  of  the  praetorship  of  Cicero,  are  unfortunately 
to  be  numbered  with  those  of  which  scarcely  more 
than  the  titles  are  extant. 

These  had  been  preceded  by  the  famous  speech 
upon  the  Manilian  law,  the  first  which  Cicero  deli- 
vered to  the  people  publicly  from  the  rostra.  Pom- 
pey,  after  being  armed  with  the  extensive  powers  con- 
ferred upon  him  by  the  statute  of  Gabinius,  (by  which 
he  was  empowered  to  fit  out  five  hundred  galleys 
and  raise  an  army  of  a  hundred  and  twenty-five 
thousand  men  against  the  pirates  in  the  Medi- 
terranean, in  addition  to  possessing  absolute  authority 
over  aU places  within  fifty  miles  of  the  coast,)  had  made 
such  good  use  of  the  extraordinary  means  placed  in 
his  hands,  as  within  forty  days  of  his  appointment 
to  have  completely  cleared  the  sea  of  the  swarms 
<)f  marauding  vessels  which  had  so  long  infested 
It ;  compeUmg  such  of  the  pirates  as  escaped  the  pur- 


THE   LIFfi   OP   CICERO. 


63 


/ 


suit  of  his  squadrons,  to  betake  themselves  for  refuge 
to  their  strongholds  in  Crete  and  Cilicia,  where  they 
were  speedily  besieged  by  the  Roman  land  forces 
and  reduced  to  extremities.  But  in  the  East  the 
war  against  Mithridates,  which  had  been  nearly 
brought  to  a  conclusion  by  the  abilities  of  Lucullus, 
had  once  more  assumed  an  unfavourable  aspect. 
Caius  Triarius,  who  had  been  appointed  by  that 
general,  while  preparing  to  return  to  Rome,  to  the 
chief  command,  until  the  arrival  of  his  successor 
Acilius  Glabrio,  had  been  suddenly  attacked  by 
the  enemy,  and  utterly  routed  with  the  loss  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  centurions,  twenty-four  tribunes, 
and  common  soldiers  in  proportion,  besides  that  of 
his  camp,  which  was  taken  and  plundered  by  the 
victors.  The  people  at  Rome,  discouraged  by  this 
severe  and  unexpected  check,  which  reminded  them  of 
former  defeats  from  the  same  able  and  still  active 
antagonist,  began  to  turn  their  eyes  upon  Ponipey  as 
the  only  person  fit  to  be  entrusted  with  the  completion 
of  the  war,  and  their  sentiments  upon  the  subject 
were  further  confirmed  by  the  news,  that  the  army 
in  the  East,  on  receiving  intelligence  that  Glabrio  had 
been  appointed  to  command  them,  had  absolutely 
refused  to  follow  him,  and  that  he  had  consequently 
been  obliged  to  stop  short  in  Bithynia.  At  this 
juncture,  therefore,  the  tribune  Manilius,  desirous  of 
securing  the  favour  of  a  powerful  patron  and  gra- 
tifying the  popular  inclination,  brought  forward  a 
law,  proposing  that  the  whole  of  the  provinces  of 
Bithynia,  Phrygia,  [Lycaonia,  Galatia,  Cappadocia, 
Cilicia,  Colchis,  and  the  lesser  Armenia,  with  the 
forces  lately  employed  in  the  piratical  war,  in  addi- 
tion to  those  lately  under  the  command  of  Lucullus, 
should  be  placed,  with  the  full  power  of  directing  all 
future  hostilities  against  Mithridates,  in  the  hands  of 
Pompey. 


64 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


It  was  tbe  ordinary  custom,  when  any  new  act 
was  proposed  to  the  people,  to  expose  it  for  three  sue  - 
cessive  market  days,  in  the  Forum,  that  all  might 
have  an  opportunity  of  inspecting  it,  before  being 
called  to  determine  by  their  votes  upon  its  accept- 
ance or  rejection.  On  such  occasions,  those  who 
were  distinguished  by  the  previous  or  present  posses- 
sion of  the  higher  magistracies,  for  no  others,  with 
the  exception  of  the  tribunes,  were  allowed,  unless  by 
express  permission,  to  ascend  the  rostra,  harangued 
the  multitude  either  for  or  against  the  intended 
statute.  The  law  of  Manilius  met  with  vehement 
opposition  from  the  greater  part  of  the  nobility,  and 
more  especially  from  Quintus  Catulus  and  Horten- 
sius,  who  placed  themselves  foremost  in  the  ranks  of 
its  most  determined  opponents  ;  the  former  honestly 
representing  the  danger  of  entrusting  a  power  equal 
to  that  which  Sylla  had  scarcely  attained  after  years 
of  opposition  and  bloodshed  to  any  individual,  how- 
ever gifted  or  distinguished ;  the  latter  more  speciously 
concealing  the  real  grounds  of  his  opposition  by  the 
argument,  that  the  safety  of  Pompey  was  too  valu- 
able to  be  exposed,  except  on  occasion  of  the  most 
pressing  necessities  of  the  state.*  Cicero  successfully 
combated  the  arguments  of  botli,  and  was  the 
principal  means  of  procuring  the  passing  of  the  law  ; 
which  Pompey,  according  to  Plutarcli,  pretended 
to  deplore,  on  receiving  intelligence  of  its  confirma- 
tion by  the  people,  complaining  that  it  placed  too 
great  a  burden  upon  one  already  oppressed  with  the 
weight  and  responsibility  of  the  charges  committed 
to  him.  In  his  oration  for  the  adoption  of  the  Bill 
of  Manilius,  Cicero  gives  a  powerful  description 
ofthe  magnitude  and  importance  of  the  contest  with 
Mithridates,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  it  had  been  con- 
ducted by  LucuUus,  of  whom  he  speaks  in  terms  of  the 
warmest  commendation.     He  then  proceeds  to  define 

■  ■  ■  I        —  '  7         . 

*  Pro  Lege  Munilia,  xx. 


J 


I 


THE   LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


65 


the  qualities  requisite  to  constitute  a  general  of  tlie 
first  order,  under  the  several  heads  of  military  skill, 
conduct,  authority,  and  good  fortune,  and  proves 
each  to  be  possessed  by  Pompey  in  the  highest  de- 
gree. The  latter  part  of  his  address  is  devoted  to 
answering  and  confuting  the  objections  urged  by 
Catulus  and  Hortensius.  The  whole  speech  is  highly 
wrought,  but,  notwithstanding  its  polish  and  elabo- 
rate elegance,  must  for  ever  offend,  by  the  character 
of  servile  adulation  to  the  then  popular  idol  which 
pervades  it  throughout.  The  incense  of  flattery  has 
seldom  been  more  profusely  or  less  disguisedly 
offered,  than  in  this  instance  of  the  degradation  of 
genius  to  an  ambition,  which  was  afterwards  found 
to  be  as  incapable  of  appreciating,  as  it  was  of  de- 
serving the  sacrifice. 

Manilius,  towards  the  end  of  the  year  in  which  he 
had  carried  his  celebrated  law,  was,  probably  in  con- 
sequence of  the  resentment  of  the  nobility,  assailed 
by  a  charge  of  extortion,  and  cited  before  the  tri- 
bunal of  Cicero  to  answer  it.  In  taking  cognizance 
of  this  cause,  instead  of  assigning  to  the  accused  the 
usual  period  of  ten  days,  for  the  preparation  of  his 
defence,  Cicero  allowed  him,  to  the  general  astonish- 
ment, but  one.  For  this  apparent  rigour  he  was  forth- 
with cited  by  the  tribunes  to  give  an  explanation  of  his 
conduct  before  an  assembly  of  the  people,  and  was  re- 
ceived on  his  appearance  with  marks  of  strong  disap- 
probation. But  the  popular  indignation  soon  subsided 
on  his  proceeding  to  account  for  his  supposed  severity. 
He  informed  those  present,  that  at  the  time  when  he 
received  the  accusation  of  Manilius,  his  office  as  pr?etor 
was  within  two  days  of  expiring,  and  that  he  had  there- 
fore determined  upon  bringing  on  the  trial  immediately, 
in  preference  to  suffering  it  to  be  transferred  to  another 
magistrate,  from  whom  the  defendant  might  not  meet 
with  so  favourable  a  hearing  as  from  himself.  His 
excuse  was  considered  as  perfectly  satisfactory,  but  the 

p 


66 


THE  LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


people  were  not  contented  until  tbey  had  induced  him 
to  promise,  that  he  would  himself  undertake  to  appear 
as  advocate  in  behalf  of  Manilius,  whose  intended  trial 
had  been  prevented  by  the  intervention  of  the  tribunes. 
.  Such  is  the  account  given  of  the  circumstance  by 
Plutarch.  The  historian  Dio,  after  stating  that 
Cicero  was  really  influenced  by  a  dislike  to  Manilius 
in  curtailing  the  time  allotted  for  his  defence,  and 
only  saved  from  the  severe  censure  of  the  popular 
assembly,  before  which  he  had  been  cited,  by  the 
promise  above-mentioned,  adds,  that  the  hearing  of 
the  cause  was  prevented  by  the  tumults  raised  in  con- 
sequence of  the  consular  elections  of  the  year,  when 
Autronius  Paetus  and  Publius  Cornelius  Sylla,  who 
had  been  already  appointed  to  the  office,  were  impeached 
for  corruption  by  Lucius  Cotta  and  Lucius  Torquatus, 
two  of  the  unsuccessful  candidates,  and,  being  found 
guilty,  were  compelled  to  give  up  the  honour  to  their 
accusers*.  The  story,  in  whatever  way  related,  will 
hardly  appear  to  contribute  nmch  evidence  in  favoiu* 
of  the  strict  impartiality  of  Cicero ;  with  respect  to 
whose  speech  on  this  occasion,  we  are  only  informed, 
that  it  abounded  in  censures  of  the  ambition  of 
the  aristocracy,  and  of  all  who  were  envious  of  tho 
growing  power  of  Pompey.  With  the  exception 
of  these  events,  his  praetorship  seems  not  to  have 
been  remarkable  for  any  occurrence  of  moment. 
It  has  been  stated,  however,  that  amidst  the  nu- 
merous claims  to  his  attention,  he  still  found 
leisure,  while  invested  with  this  magistracy,  to  ire- 
quent  the  school  of   M.  Antonius  Gnipho,  a  rheto- 

•  As  a  fragment  of  the  oration  of  Cicero  in  defence  of  Manilius 
is  quoted  by  Nonius,  and  as  Asconius  Psedianus  has  stated  that  the 
accused  was  actually  condemned  in  default  of  his  personal  appear- 
ance to  answer  the  indictment  preferred  against  him,  the  testimony 
of  Dio  upon  the  subject  may  be  regarded  wiih  suspicion.  To  recon- 
cile the  assertion  of  Asconius  with  the  existence  of  the  oration,  it 
has  been  conjectured  that  the  latter,  although  prepared  in  anticipa- 
tion of  the  trial,  was  never  actually  pronounced  iu  a  court  of  justice. 


V 


/ 


ill 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


67 


rician  of  considerable  note.  Such  an  attendance  may 
easily  be  conjectured  to  have  been  given,  rather  with 
a  view  of  patronising  and  recommending  the  pre- 
ceptor*, than  with  any  hope  of  procuring  much  addi- 
tional instruction  in  an  art  of  which  he  was  himself, 
at  the  time,  the  most  finished  master  in  Rome. 

From  the  period  of  Cicero's  election  to  the  praetor- 
ship, alight  begins  to  be  thrown  upon  his  actions  and 
character,  which  would  be  vainly  sought  in  the  partial 
or  mistaken  testimony  of  contemporary  or  subsequent 
authors.  This  is  to  be  found  in  his  ample  corre- 
spondence, than  which  a  more  valuable  gift  has  never 
descended  to  subsequent  ages  amidst  the  multiplied 
treasures  of  antiquity.  Although  none  of  his  letters 
to  his  other  friends  and  acquaintance  can  be  certainly 
proved  to  have  been  written  prior  to  his  consulship,  we 
have  eleven  of  his  epistles  to  Atticus,  of  which  one  of 
the  earliest  mentions  his  intention  of  standing  for  the 
praetorshipt.  Several  among  these  contain  commis- 
sions for  procuring  certain  statues  from  Athens,  for  the 
purpose  of  ornamenting  his  Tusculan  villa  J.    In  one 

*  Middleton,  Life  of  Cicero,  8vo,  p.  85. 

f  Ad  Attic,  lib.  i.  11.  It  should  be  mentioned,  however,  that 
the  date  of  this  epistle  has  been  a  subject  of  much  difference  of 
opinion,  and  that  it  has  been  thought,  by  some  of  the  most  eminent 
critics,  to  refer  to  his  canvass  for  the  consulate. 

■^  Among  them  are  particularly  specified,  several  figures  of  Mercpry 
(probably  terminal)  of  Pentelic  marble,  with  bronze  heads  ;  a  num- 
ber of  Megaric  statues,  which  seem  to  have  been  rerommended  to 
him  in  high  terms  by  Atticus,  and  others  of  the  kinds  termed 
Hermathenae  and  Hermeraclae,  or  joint  figures  of  Hercules  and 
Minerva,  or  Hercules  and  Mercury.  He  also  orders  mouldings  of 
figures,  which  were  perhaps  to  be  executed  in  terra  cotta,  for  the 
ceiling  of  his  atrium,  and  two  embossed  covers  for  his  wells.  He 
appears  at  the  same  time  to  have  contemplated  purchasing,  at  a  fiiture 
opportunity,  a  considerable  part  of  the  library  of  Atticus,  since  he 
requests  him  not  to  part  with  it,  even  if  he  should  find  a  ready 
bidder,  as  he  is  carefully  Living  by  all  his  earnings,  with  a  view  to 
procure  this  nieans  of  solace  for  his  old  age.  His  anxiety  to  obtain 
tiie  statues,   bv   the   quickest  means   and  at   the   earliest   period 

F  2 


68  THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO. 

he  laments  the  death  of  his  cousin  Lucius*,  and  in 
another  mentions  the  decease  of  his  father,  without, 
however,  making  the  slightest  comment  upon  the 
event+ .  We  learn  in  addition,  that,  about  this  time,  . 
his  daughter  Tullia  was  betrothed  to  Cams  Piso,  the 
son  of  Lucius  FrugiJ,  and  that  his  family  was  in- 
creased by  the  birth  of  an  infant  son§.  Allusions 
are  also  made  to  certain  differences  between  his  brother 
Quintus  and  Pomponia,  the  wife  of  the  latter,  and  sister 
of  Atticus;  but  these  seem  to  have  speedily  ended  in 
theirreconciliation,chieflybymeansofhisintervention. 

In  his  anxiety  to  make  every  effort  for  the  acquisi- 
tion of  the  consulate,  hedeclined  the  province  which  he 
might  have  obtained  at  the  end  of  his  office  as  praetor, 
determining  to  spend  the  whole  of  the  two  years  next 
ensuing  in  strengthening  his  interest  with  all  classes, 
and  in  diligently  canvassing  for  the  highest  honour  m 
the  power  of  his  countrymen  to  bestow.    Ihe  times, 
however,  were  not  such  as  to  promise  a  very  tranquil 
enjoyment  of  the  dignity,  since  they  were  already 
pregnant  with  those  causes  of  dissatisfaction  and  law- 
less outrage,  which  ultimately  issued  in  the  conspiracy 
of  Catiline.     That  daring  and  licentious   profligate 
havintr  just   returned  from  his  province  of  Africa, 
for  th'e  purpose   of  presenting  himself  for  the    con- 
sulship, and  being  deprived  of  all   hopes  of  success 
by  an  impeachment  for   illegal  extortion   preferred 
against  him  by  Publius  Clodius,  a  person  of  as  aban- 
doned  principles  ashimself,  formed,  in  conjunction  with 
Publius  Autronius    and  Cneius   Piso||,^^je8ign_of 

possible,  is  sufficiently  amusing,  and  in  the  true  ^pi^^'^^^^J^;' 
while  his  powers  of  appreciating  art  seem  at  least  upon  a  level  with 
those  possessed  by  connoisseurs  in  general. 

•  Ad  Attic,  lib.  i.  5.  t  Ad  Attic.  I.  6. 

-*-    kA  AttJi.   i    •^  6   Ad  Attic.  1.  -:. 

I  .tllust  aJ-LiVy  add  the  name  of^ub.  Sylla  who  was  af^r- 
wa  ds  defended  against  the  charge  by  Cicero  and  Horlensms  and 
Suetonius  affirms  that  both  Cfflsar  and  Crassus  were  concerned 
fn  the  con.pin.cv.  He  even  relates  that  C«sar  was  to  ^-e  P-« 
the  signal  for  the  assassination  by  letting  his  robe  drop  from   his 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


69 


/ 


/ 


assassinating  the  consuls,  Torquatus   and  Cotta,  in 
the  Capitol,  on  the  very  day  of  their  entrance  upon 
their  office.     In  consequence  of  the  plot  being  sus- 
pected, the  conspirators  deferred  attempting  to  carry 
it  into  effect  until  the  month  of  February,  by  which 
time  they  had  added  a  considerable  number  of  senators 
to  the  list  of  their  intended  victims  ;  but  the  prema- 
ture eagerness  of  Catiline,  who  gave  the  sign  to  his 
accomplices  in  front  of  the  senate-house  before  they 
were  fully  prepared  to  obey  it,  caused  the  failure  of 
this  second  attempt  at  the  destruction  of  their  oppo- 
nents*.    It  is  remarkable,  that    although    the    true 
character  of  Catiline  must,  assuredly  long  be^^ore  this, 
have  been  well  known  to  him,  Cicero  notwithstanding 
entertained  the  design  of  appearing  as  his  advocate  in 
the  prosecution  hanging  over  his  head.     As  Clodius, 
who  conducted  it,  was  induced  to  drop  all  further  pro- 
ceedings, by  bribery,  the  cause  was  never  brought  to 
trial ;  yet  in  his    correspondence  with   Atticus,   the 
orator  expressly  affirms,  that  he  is  sincerely  meditat- 
ing his  defencet,  that  the  judges  appointed  are  pre- 
cisely those  whom  he  could  have  wished,  and  that 
he  hopes  if  the  accused  should  be  acquitted,  to  have 
his  intimacy  and  support  during  their  joint  efforts  for 
the  consulate.     His  pleadings  in  favour  of  Publius 
ComeHus,  who  had  been  charged  with  treason  in  con- 
sequence of  his  persisting  to  read  a  bill  he  had  brought 
forward  before  the  people,  in  spite  of  the  tribunitial 
negative  placed  upon  it  by  his  colleague  in  office,  Ser- 
vilius  Globulus,  may  be  easily  believed  to  have  been 

shoulder,  and  was  only  deterred  from  doing  so  by  the  unexpected 
absence  of  Crassus,  who,  on  the  very  eve  of  its  execution,  repented 
of  the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  design. — Julius,  cap.  ix. 

*  Sallust  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  xviii. 

•f-Hoc  tempore  Catilinam  competitorera  nostrum  defendere  cogi- 
tamus.  Judices  habemus  quos  voluimus,  sumum  accusatoris 
▼oluntate.  Spero  si  absolutus  erit  conjunctionem  ilium  nobis  fore 
in  ratione  petitionis. — Ad  Attic,  i.  2, 


70 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


delivered  for  a  worthier  object,  and  in  a  much  moro 
reputable  cause.   The  defence  pronounced  by  Cicero  in 
this  case,  in  which  Hortensius,  Catulus,  and  several 
others  of  the  chief  nobility  of  Rome,  appeared  as  wit- 
nesses for  the  prosecution,  lasted  four  days,  and  was 
afterwards  published  in  the  form  of  two  orations  of 
considerable  length.     These  have  been  mentioned  in 
terms  of  high  praise  by  Quintilian*,  but  whether  his 
commendation  was   fully  deserved  or  not,  it  is  now 
impossible  to  judge,  since,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
unimportant  and  unconnected  sentences,  both  have 
long  been  considered  as  having  irrecoverably  perished. 
In  his  poem  upon  his  consulship,  as  well  as  in  his 
orations,  Cicero  has  taken  the  pains  of  commemo- 
rating the  close  of  the  year  of  the  chief  magistracy 
of  Torquatus    and  Cotta,   as  remarkable  for  many 
prognostics  which  indicated  the  desperate  and  atro- 
cious designs  then  preparing  against   the  state  by 
Catiline   and    his    accomplices;    and  he    has   been 
strictly  folio wedt,  in  his  leaning   towards  the  mar- 
vellous and  supernatural  on  this  occasion,  by  Plutarch 
as  well  as  Dio  Cassius.     According  to  these  seve- 
ral authorities,  thunders  and  apparitions,  seconded  by 
Etruscan   prophecies   and  the   mystic   warnings   of 
diviners,  formed  an  appropriately  solemn  introduction 
to  the  plan  of  domestic  treason,  unsparing  rapine  and 
indiscriminate  massacre,  which  was  shortly  to  be  dis- 
closed and   frustrated.       As  a   matter  of  authentic 
history,  however,  perhaps  not  altogether  devoid  of  in- 
terest, it  may  be  observed,  that  at  the  time  in  question 
the  Capitol,  with  its  newly  erected  buildings,  seems 
to  have  been  visited   with  one  of  those  tremendous 
storms,  by  which  it  was  on  several  occasions  materi- 
ally injured.  Several  brazen  statues  were  struck  down* 
by  the  lightning ;  the  tablets  of  the  same  metal,  on 
which  some  of  the  ancient  laws  of  Rome  were  engraved, 


•  Instit.  Orator,  lib.  v. 


t  Plut.  in  Cic. 


! 


/ 


I 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  71 

partially  fused,  so  that  the  inscriptions  upon  them 
were  rendered  illegible  ;  and  the  figures  of  Romulus 
and  Remus,  with  the  legendary  wolf,  struck  to  the 
earth,  the  latter  leaving  the  traces  of  its  feet,  which 
were  entirely  melted  by  the  flash,  upon  the  sup- 
porting pedestial*. 

With  this  ominous  preface  commenced  the  consul- 
ship of  Lucius  Julius  Caesar  and  Caius  Marcius 
Figulus  ;  a  year  celebrated  not  only  in  connection 
with  the  destinies  of  Cicero,  in  whose  life  it  formed 
a  memorable  epoch,  but  as  one  of  the  highest  import- 
ance in  the  history  of  his  country.  As  he  had  now 
reached  the  age  of  forty-three  years,  at  which  he  was 
allowed  by  law  to  present  himself  as  an  aspirant  to 
the  consular  office,  he  assumed  the  dress  and  labours 
of  a  candidate  for  that  honour,  in  suing  for  which,  he 
had  to  oppose  the  exertions  of  no  less  than  six  com- 
petitors, viz. :  Stilpicius  Galba,  Sergius  Catiline, 
Caius  Antonius,  Cassius  Longinus,  Quintus  Comi- 
ficius,  and  Licinius  Sacerdos.  Among  these,  Antonius 
and  Catiline,  who  appear  to  have  made  common 
cause  against  the  rest,  conducted  their  canvass  with 
such  open  and  unblushing  bribery,  that  the  senate 
thought  it  necessary,  by  additional  penalties,  to 
strengthen  the  law  against  corruption.  The  tri- 
bune Orestinus,  however,  who  was  probably  in 
the  interest  of  the  parties,  interposed  his  authority 
to  prevent  the  amended  statute  from  passing,  and  it 
was  on  the  occasion  of  this  interference,  that  Cicero 
delivered  the  speech  called  by  the  critics  "The  Ora- 
tion in  the  white  toga;"  in  allusion  to  the  dress  which 
he  at  that  time  wore,  in  compliance  with  general 
custom.    In  this  oration  he  seems,  (judging  from  the 

*  De  Divinatione,  lib.  i.  cap.  12. 

•'  Nunc  ea  Torquato  quae  quondam  et  consule  Cotta,'  &c. 
Sec  also  Childe  Harold ,  Canto  iv.  stanza  88,  **  And  thou,  the 
tliunder-stiicken  uurseof  Ronie,"  &c  with  the  accompanying  note. 


72 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


73 


72 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


78 


few  passages  which  remain  of  it,)  forgetting  his  former 
resolution  of  acting  as  his  advocate,  to  have  assailed 
Catiline  as  well  as  his  confederate  Antonius,  with 
a  strength  of  language  from  which  the  infamy  of  their 
characters  might  easily  have  been  deduced,  were  it 
intimated  only  by  the  disjointed  sentences  of  the  in- 
vective which  have  reached  us.  The  former  is  openly 
reproached  for  his  murders,  during  the  proscription  of 
Svlla,  and  his  notorious  misconduct  at  home  and  in 
Africa  ;  while  Antonius  is  reminded,  in  forcible  terms, 
of  his  extortions  and  oppressions  in  Achaia,  for  which 
he  had  been  formerly  impeached.  The  election  of 
both,  is  characterised  by  the  expressive  metaphor  of 
two  daggers  unsheathed  at  once  against  the  safety  of 
the  commonwealth.*  In  this  image  there  was  more 
truth  than  either  the  orator  or  his  auditory  might  at 
the  time  imagine.  The  famous  plot  laid  by  Catiline 
against  the  existing  constitution  and  the  lives  of  its 
principal  supporters,  was,  in  fact,  now  fast  maturing, 
and  although  strict  precautions  had  been  used  to  prevent 
any  suspicion  of  its  existence,  was  not  so  closely  kept 
secret,  but  that  some  faint  intimations  of  its  character 
had  become  matter  of  general  conversation  ;  chiefly 
through  the  means  of  Fulvia,  the  mistress  of  Quintus 
Curius,  one  of  the  most  rash  and  heedless  of  the  parties 
engaged  in  it ;  who,  although  she  suppressed  the 
names  of  her  authorities,  made  no  scruple  of  men- 
tioning the  general  tenour  of  what  she  had  heard  to 
her  acquaintancet. 

In  consequence  of  the  undefined  fear  which,  by  this 
means,  was  spread  among  the  nobility,  (who,  aware 
of  some  secret  danger  to  themselves,  although  ig- 
norant of  its  extent  and  the  quarter  from  which  it 
might  be  expected,  forgot,  in  their  desire  to  place  a 
trustworthy  person  at  the  helm  of  government, 
the    comparatively  obscure    origin   of  Cicero,)    his 

*  Oratio  in  TogA  Candidfi — sub  fin,     tjSallust.  Bell.  Cat,  cap.  xxiii. 


i 


; 


election  was  triumphantly  carried,  amidst  the  ac- 
clamations, as  he  tells  us,  of  all  classes  and  orders. 
Antonius  was  appointed  his  colleague,  an  honour 
which  Catiline  missed  by  the  votes  of  but  a  few 
centuries.  The  plans  of  the  conspirators  sustained  a 
serious  check  by  the  result  of  this  election,  which 
they  had  confidently  reckoned,  by  the  influence  of 
Marcus  Crassus  and  Julius  Caesar,  who  were  equally 
opposed  to  Cicero,  would  end  in  his  utter  disap- 
pointment. 

Although  the  minutest  circumstances  connected 
with  its  progress  and  termination  have  long  been  a 
matter  of  common  history,  it  may  seem  not  irrelevant, 
in  a  life  of  one  whose  name  is  intimately  connected 
with  it,  to  enter  at  this  opportunity  somewhat 
more  at  length  into  the  objects  of  the  plot  which  has 
been  alluded  to  : — a  design  so  infamous  in  character — 
so  rash  in  conduct— and  so  desperate  in  its  proposed 
results,  as  might  have  provoked  and  justified  the  scep- 
ticism of  succeeding  generations,  had  not  every  essen- 
tial point  been  confirmed  by  the  united  testimony  of 
two  writers,  attached  during  their  lives  to  directly 
opposite  parties ;  the  first,  a  principal  actor  in  its  detec- 
tion and  punishment ;  the  other,  an  eye-witness  of  the 
event,  who  would  have  possessed  ample  means  for 
successfully  impeaching  the  veracity  of  his  political 
opponent,  had  it  failed  in  any  particular,  and  would 
have  been  but  too  happy  to  do  so,  if  he  had  been  fur- 
nished with  the  opportunity. 

The  miseries  suffered  by  the  people  of  Italy  during 
the  contests  between  Marius  and  Sylla,  were  by  no 
means  the  only  evils  engendered  by  those  times  of 
terror  and  commotion.  During  the  vigorous  dictator- 
ship of  the  latter,  his  firm  and  uncompromising 
policy,  which  suffered  no  violence  to  exist  but  such  as 
direc|ily  promoted  his  own  interest,  kept  the  fiery 
spirits,  by  whose  assistance  he  had  mounted  to  ab- 


74 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


75 


74 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


solute  and  irresponsible  dominion,  in  some  decree  of 
subjection.  But  at  bis  death,  vast  numbers  of  those 
who  had  composed  the  strength  of  his  armies  were 
left  without  hope  of  further  emolument  or  distinc- 
tion. Most  among  them  having  learned  to  acquire 
a  taste  for  Eastern  luxury  and  profusion  in  the  cam- 
paigns against  Mithridates,  had  afterwards  found 
ample  means  for  gratifying  it  at  the  expense  of  their 
countrymen.  The  wealth  wliich  had  been  obtained 
by  their  violence,  however,  was  speedily  exhausted 
by  their  extravagance ;  and  with  every  propensity  to 
vicious  indulgence  unabated  by  their  want  of  suf- 
ficient resources  for  satisfying  it,  they  gloomily 
watched  for  the  appearance  of  a  leader  possessed 
of  a  spirit  like  that  of  their  old  commander,  or 
a  favourable  opportunity  for  renewing  the  civil 
discords  which  had  formerly  issued  so  nmch  to 
their  benefit.  By  a  policy,  moreover,  of  exceed- 
ingly questionable  utility,  so  far  as  the  interests  of  the 
state  were  concerned,  altliough,  no  doubt,  prompted 
by  the  soundest  appreciation  of  his  own  advantage 
on  the  part  of  the  dictator,  instead  of  being  suffered 
to  disperse,  when  their  services  were  no  longer  re- 
quired, and  to  lose  some  of  their  lawless  habits  by 
contact  with  persons  actively  engaged  in  the  peaceful 
occupations  of  civil  life,  they  had  been  distributed  in 
large  bodies,  under  the  name  of  military  colonies,  in 
different  parts  of  Italy ;  where  they  had  full  opportu- 
nity of  comparing  among  themselves,  their  present 
condition  of  inactivity  and  comparative  privation, 
with  the  stirring  and  dissolute  life  they  had  for- 
merly led,  and  of  strengthening  each  other  s  resolu- 
tions to  seize  the  earliest  opportunity  of  starting  on 
a  fresh  career  of  outrage  and  spoliation.  Nor  were 
these  the  only  elements  of  which  the  brooding  tem- 
pest was  composed.  Many  of  the  nobility  of  Rome, 
inured  under  Syllato  every  kind  of  excess,  and  accus- 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICEBO. 


75 


/ 


tomed,  in  their  earliest  years,  to  the  careless  habits  and 
reckless  profligacy  of  a  military  life,  had  been  unable 
to  return,  after  the  hazardous  game  on  which  they 
had  entered  was  decided  in  their  favour,  to  the  more 
restricted  course  of  pleasure  warranted  by  the  extent 
of  their  hereditary  estates,  but,  plunging  headlong 
into  every  kind  of  lavish  expenditure,  had  incurred 
enormous  debts,  which  they  had  not  the  remotest 
prospect  of  being  able  to  pay,  unless  by  the  oppor- 
tunity of  rapine  afforded  by  a  new  revolution. 
With  bloodshed  and  cruelty,  in  their  worst  shape, 
they  had  been  too  extensively  acquainted  during 
the  former  contention  and  its  attendant  proscriptions 
to  shrink  from  any  such  means  of  repairing  tlieir 
ruined  fortunes,  provided  they  appeared  the  readiest 
for  effecting  the  desired  object.  There  only  wanted 
a  fitting  person  to  bring  together  and  arrange  for 
action  such  apt  materials  for  an  intestine  convulsion  of 
the  most  formidable  nature,  and  by  the  unhappy 
complexion  of  the  times,  and  the  tendency  of  exist- 
ing causes  to  produce  the  most  astounding  forms  of 
depravity,  the  character  required  was  not  long  in 
appearing. 

After  the  description  of  the  mind  and  person  of 
Sergius  Catiline,  so  vividly  and  powerfully  traced 
by  Sallust,  it  would  be  presumption  to  use,  in  al- 
luding, to  the  same  subject,  any  other  words  than 
those,  by  which  the  genius  of  this  writer  has 
rendered  both  immortal  in  the  recollection  of  after 
ages.  His  portraiture  of  the  most  abandoned  and 
flagitioi^  traitor  of  that,  or  perhaps  of  any  time,  is, 
indeed,  so  well  known,  that  it  needs  but  the  mention 
of  the  name  of  Catiline,  to  place  before  us  the  ghastly 
countenance,  haggard  expression,  and  unequal  gait 
of  the  victim  of  his  own  unbridled  passions,  con- 
stantly haunted  by  the  furies  of  remorse,  and  only 
gaining  relief  from  recollections  of  past  enormities,  by 


76  THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 

the  feverish  excitement  caused  by  the  meditation  of 
crimes  yet  to  come.  Nor  can  a  single  stroke  be  ad(ied 
to  that  impressive  delineation,  with  which  all  are 
acquainted,  of  a  disposition  at  once  subtle,  versatile, 
and  daring ;  of  a  covetousness  in  acquiring  the  pro- 
perty of  others,  only  equalled  by  the  profusion  and  ex- 
travagance which  marked  the  thoughtless  waste  of  its 
own  possessions ;  of  an  ambition  vast  and  unbounded, 
without  the  restraint  of  a  single  virtue  to  preclude 
its  exercise,  or  of  the  slightest  prudence  to  prevent 
its  open  display ;  and,  lastly,  of  an  eloquence  per- 
fectly adapted  to  seduce  and  mislead,  united  to  bodily 
powers  capable  of  incredible  exertion,  and  a  patience 
of  fatigue,  want,  and  privations,  when  such  should 
be  rendered  necessary,  as  extraordinary  as  all  the 
other  features  in  the  character  of  its  lawless  possessor. 
Without  attempting  to  enlarge  upon  a  picture  not 
often  equalled  by  historians  or  biographers,  it  may 
be  remarked  that  Catiline  was  descended  from  a 
family  often  distinguished  by  civic  honour?,  and  con- 
sidered one  of  the  noblest  in  Rome.  His  earliest 
initiation  into  the  vices  for  which  he  was  afterwards 
notorious,  was  effected  during  the  convulsions  attend-- 
ing  the  elevation  of  Sylla  to  the  dictatorship,  in  whose 
cause  he  distinoaiished  himself  as  a  violent  and  re- 
morseless  partisan.  The  first  crime  laid  to  his  charge 
is  the  murder  of  his  own  brother,  whose  name  he 
afterwards  persuaded  Sylla  to  insert  in  the  list  of  the 
proscribed.  His  sister's  husband,  a  Roman  knight 
attached  to  no  party,  and  remarkable  for  his  mild 
and  amiable  disposition,  is  also  recorded  as  having 
fallen,  at  the  same  time,  by  his  hand.  His  assassin- 
ation of  Marcus  Marius  Gratidianus,  a  most  estimable 
person,  and  nearly  related  to  the  famous  chief  Caius 
Marius,  was  marked  by  circumstances  of  singular 
horror  and  impiety.  This  unfortunate  Roman  having 
been  placed  in  the  proscribed  list  by  Sylla,  Catiline 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


77 


undertook  to  perform  the  task  of  his  execution.  Ac- 
cordingly, having  entered  the  house  of  his  victim,  and 
exercised  upon  him  the  utmost  inventions  of  insult,  he 
at  length  finished  his  sufferings  by  striking  off  his 
head;  which  he  carried,  streaming  with  blood, through 
the  public  streets  to  the  tribunal  of  Sylla  in  the 
Forum,  coolly  proceeding  afterwards,  to  the  disgust 
and  indignation  of  all  present,  to  wash  his  hands  in 
the  lustral  water  which  stood  before  the  temple  of 
Apollo  in  the  neighbourhood.  An  action  of  almost 
incredible  enormity  succeeded.  On  the  death  of  his 
wife,  having  formed  an  attachment  to  Aurelia  Ores- 
tilla,  a  woman  of  great  beauty,  but  infamous  for  her 
conduct,  and  finding  that  strong  objections  were 
made  by  her  to  a  marriage  with  him,  on  the  ground 
that  she  was  in  fear  of  being  obnoxious  to  his  son, 
who  had  nearly  reached  the  age  of  manhood,  he  is 
said  summarily  to  have  removed  this  obstacle  to  his 
nuptials  by  poison.  His  conduct,  while  pra?tor  in 
Africa,  has  been  already  noticed  as  having  subjected 
him  to  a  prosecution  on  his  return  to  Rome,  in  con- 
sequence of  which  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw  from 
the  list  of  candidates  for  the  year.  From  this  time 
he  appears  to  have  commenced  that  studious  course 
of  corrupting  the  younger  branches  of  the  Roman 
nobility,  by  pursuing  which  he  was  speedily  sur- 
rounded by  a  band  of  followers,  whose  daring,  under 
his  instructions,  was  soon  rendered  equal  to  their 
licentiousness.  The  effeminate  dress  and  bearing  of 
these  wretched  profligates  has  been  well  described  by 
Cicero,  but  they  were  far  from  being  the  least  for- 
midable of  the  enemies  he  had  to  encounter.  Their 
features,  though  carefully  adorned  with  paint 
and  composed  to  an  expression  of  elegant  inanity, 
were  not  unfrequently  darkened  by  the  scowl  of  the 
assassin;  and  their  long  flowing  vests,  reaching,  in 
defiance  of  prescribed  custom,  to  their  wrists  and 
ancles,  concealed  not  unfrequently  the  dagger,  which 


78 


THB    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


was  promptly  and  unsparingly  used  on  the  slightest 
provocation.  In  addition  to  these,  whoever  was 
enslaved  by  vices  which  he  had  no  means  of  gra- 
tifying, or  rendered  desperate  by  the  consequences 
of  former  extravagance;  those  who  were  appre- 
hensive of  punishment  for  past  offences,  or  who 
wished  to  commit  them  in  future  without  any  such 
cause  of  dread,  together  with  the  ambitious  and  the 
discontented  of  all  classes,  found  in  Catiline  a  ready 
adviser  and  a  friend.  To  the  sensual  he  lent  him- 
self, as  a  ready  instrument  in  their  excesses ;  for  the 
necessitous  he  procured  money,  or  the  forbearance  of 
their  creditors;  towards  such  as  were  desirous  of 
public  honours  he  promised  all  his  interest  and 
influence,  neither  of  which  was  inconsiderable; 
while  to  all  he  held  out  the  prospect  of  a  general  act 
of  insolvency,  a  proscription  of  the  richest  citizens, 
and  the  speedy  diversion  of  every  office  of  trust  and 
emolument,  which  he  represented  as  monopolised  by 
a  haughty  and  tyrannical  aristocracy,  to  the  service 
and  exaltation  of  Jiis  own  personal  adherents. 

The  conspiracy  of  Catiline  was  not  one  of  the 
people,  since  we  find  that  the  lower  orders  of  Rome 
were  not  only  panic-struck  at  its  disclosure,  but 
enthusiastic  in  their  gratitude,  when  the  danger  it 
seemed  to  threaten  was  averted.  Neither  was  it  one 
of  the  nobility,  as  these  were,  to  a  great  extent,  the 
victims  marked  out  by  it  for  destruction.  It  appears 
to  have  recognised  no  great  principle,  nor  to  have 
contemplated  any  single  object  beyond  the  satisfying 
of  the  passions  of  the  moment,'  and  the  transfer 
of  power  to  the  hands  of  a  faction  who  would  have 
used  it,  to  the  utmost  extent,  simply  as  a  means  of 
plunder,  and  for  the  summary  removal  of  those  who 
had  hitherto  stood  in  the  way  of  their  possessing  it. 
From  such  trivial  incentives  was  a  revolution,  of  the 
most  tremendous  kind,  deliberately  planned  and 
entered  upon,  in  a  city,  where  the  long  familiarity  of 


.  / 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  79 

its  inhabitants  with  all  the  different  shapes  of  internal 
discord  can  alone  account  for  the  apparent  disparity 
between  the  cause  and  its  effects.  Dark  and  revolt- 
ing as  were  the  means  by  which  it  was  proposed  to 
be  carried  into  execution,  it  numbered  among  its 
promoters  several  of  the  noblest  names  of  the  state. 
Suspicion,  with  perhaps  some  reasonable  ground  at 
the  time,  ventured  to  point  out  those  of  Marcus 
Crassus  and  Julius  Caesar.  That  of  Caius  Antonius, 
the  colleague  of  Cicero,  as  well  as  of  his  nephew, 
afterwards  the  triumvir,  was  more  openly  added. 
From  what  we  know  of  all  four,  the  charge,  however 
serious,  does  not  appear  by  any  means  incredible. 
The  connivance  of  Crassus  has  beeii  accounted  for  by 
his  jealousy  of  the  extraordinary  honours  lately  con- 
ferred upon  Pompey,  and  his  hope  of  easily  making 
himself  the  chief  person  in  the  state,  in  the  absence 
of  his  rival,  if  the  designs  of  Catiline  succeeded*. 
But  although,  like  those  mentioned  with  him,  as 
well  as  others  among  the  nobility,  he  might  have 
secretly  excited  or  encouraged  the  conspirators, 
it  is  certain  that  he  was  too  cautious  to  implicate 
himself  in  the  consequences  of  their  failure,  by 
such  a  close  connexion  with  them  as  might  place 
him  in  the  position  of  a  direct  accomplice.  Those 
of  senatorial  rank,  who  were  prevented  by  no 
such  fears  from  distinguishing  themselves  as  active 
leaders  in  the  plot,  were,  in  addition  to  Catiline, 
Publius  Lentulus,  surnamed  Sura,  a  patrician,  who 
had  formerly  held  the  office  of  consult,  but  having 
been  expelled  by  the  censors  from  the  senate  on  ac- 
count of  his  infamous  character,  was  endeavouring 
to  regain  his  former  station  by  the  usual  course  of 

•  Sallust.  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  xxvii. 

t  In  conjunction  with  Cneius  Aiifidius  Orestes,  a,  u.  c.  683. 
Lentulus  was  at  this  time  married  to  Julia,  the  widow  of  Marcus 
Antonius,  surnamed  Cretensis,  and  mother  of  Mark  Antony.  Hence 
the  first  cause  of  the  hatred  of  the  latter,  who  had  heen  carefully 
educated  in  the  politics  of  his  8tq)-father,  towards  Cicero, 


80 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


81 


public  honours,  and  was  actually  praetor  when  the 
conspiracy  broke  out ;  Publius  Autronius,  who  had 
been  the  colleague  of  Cicero  in  the  quaestorship ; 
Cassius  Longinus,  who  has  been  before  named  as  an 
unsuccessful  candidate  for  the  consulship;  Caius 
Cethegus  and  Servius  Cornelius  Sylla,  both  members 
of  the  noble  house  of  the  Comelii ;  Lucius  Vargun- 
teius,  Marcus  Fortius  Laeca,  Lucius  Bestia,  and 
Quintus  Curius.  The  equestrian  order  was  repre- 
sented by  Marcus  Fulvius  Nobilior,  Lucius  Statilius, 
Publius  Gabinius  Capito,  and  Caius  Cornelius. 
Besides  those  whose  exertions  were  principally  con- 
fined to  the  capital,  several  persons  occupying  high 
stations  in  the  colonies  and  municipal  towns,  were 
engaged  to  advance  the  cause  of  the  confederacy. 
Cneius  Piso,  who  had  been  engaged  in  the  design  of 
assassinating  the  consuls  of  the  former  year,  would 
have  been  one  of  its  most  serviceable  members,  had 
he  not  been  despatched  by  the  senate,  in  their  desire 
to  remove  so  mischievous  a  citizen  to  a  distance,  into 
Spain ;  where,  fortunately  for  his  countrymen,  he  was 
set  upon  and  slain  by  an  armed  escort  of  the  natives 
to  which  he  had  entrusted  himself,  in  consequence  of 
his  cruelty  and  extortion*. 

The  first  convention  of  this  audacious  band  took 
place,  according  to  Sallust,  on  the  calends  of  Junet, 
in  the  year  of  the  city  six  hundred  and  ninety,  while 
Caesar  and  Figulus  were  yet  consuls,  and  consequently 
before  the  comitia  or  popular  assemblies  had  been  held 
for  creating  the  public  officers  of  the  ensuing  year  J. 
The  meeting  was  held  in  a  private  apartment  of  the 

•  Sallust.  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  xix.  This  liistorian,  however,  mentioDs 
that,  in  the  opinion  of  some,  he  had  been  assassinated  by  the  orders 
ofPouipey. 

f  The  Calends,  from  an  old  word,  signifying  to  proclaim  or 
call,  from  the  circumstance  of  their  being,  in  ancient  times,  publicly 
announced  by  the  priests  to  the  people,  were,  as  it  is  well  known, 
invariably  the  first  day  of  the  month. 

X  Among  the  Romans,  the  great   officers  of  the  state  wer«  often 


/ 


#• 


house  of  Catiline,  whose  speech  on  opening  their  de- 
liberations, although  in  all  probability  fictitious  like 
most  of  those  recorded  by  the  ancient  historians,  has 
been  given  at  length  by  the  writer  cited  above.  We 
are  informed  by  the  same  authority,  that  the  obli- 
gation to  secrecy,  impressed  upon  all  present  by 
the  most  solemn  oaths,  was  said  to  have  been  ren- 
dered still  more  binding  by  the  horrible  ceremony  of 
handing  round  a  goblet  of  human  blood,  which  the 
assembly  tasted  in  succession*.  Dio  Cassius,  an 
historian  of  less  weight,  has  even  gone  so  far  as  to 
affirm,  that  Catiline  sacrificed  a  boy  upon  the  occa- 
sion, and  after  the  oath  of  mutual  fidelity  had  been  re- 
peated by  the  confederates  over  his  entrails,  actually 
partook  of  them,  in  conjunction  with  his  companions  t. 
The  design  of  his  first  council  was  to  inflame  the 
conspirators  by  a  representation  of  the  unboundef 
wealth  and  luxury  enjoyed  by  one  part  of  the  com- 
munity, while  others  were  suffering  all  the  extremities 
of  want,  and  to  represent  the  condition  to  which  they 
had  reduced  themselves  as  one  of  miserable  slavery, 
while  that  which  they  hoped  speedily  to  realise  was 
disguised   by  the  specious  name  of   freedom.      He 

chosen  some  months  before  actually  enteiing  upon  the  exercise  of 
their  several  duties.  This  regulation  was  adopted  in  order  that 
ample  time  might  be  given  for  inquiring  whether  they  had  been 
elected  without  the  employment  of  undue  influence,  whether  all 
the  legal  forms  had  been  observed,  or,  lastly,  whether  their  return 
had  been  sanctioned  by  the  auspices  which  were  carefully 
taken  at  the  time,  and  in  which  the  occurrence  of  a  single 
unfavourable  omen,  or  the  false  report  of  one  on  the  |)art  of 
the  augurs,  (a  stratagem  not  unfrequeiitly  employed  against  a 
candidate  not  in  the  favour  of  the  nobility,)  was  sufficient  to 
render  the  whole  ceremony  void.  In  the  earlier  periods  of  the 
republic  the  comitia  were  held  in  the  January  or  February  pre- 
ceding the  March  in  which  the  consuls  entered  upon  their  office, 
but  in  later  times,  when  the  ceremony  of  their  inauguration  was 
performed  on  the  first  of  January,  late  in  the  July  or  August  of 
the  preceding  year. 

*  Sallust.  Catilina,  xxii.  -f  Dio.  xxxvii.  30. 

O 


82 


THE    LIFE  OF   CICERO. 


then  enlarged  upon  the  facilities  afforded  by  th« 
present  juncture  for  a  bold  attempt  against  the 
existing  government,  representing  that  multitudes 
were  dissatisfied  with  their  condition,  and  only  wait- 
ing for  an  opportunity  for  altering  it ;  that  one  of 
his  friends  was  at  the  head  of  an  army  in  Spain,  and 
another  in  Mauritania ;  while  the  main  strength  of 
the  Roman  forces  was  absent  with  Pompey,  on  an 
expedition  of  great  difficulty  and  doubtful  issue. 
He  finally  exhorted  them  to  use  all  their  influence 
for  securing  his  return  as  consul  in  the  ensuing  elec- 
tion, as  the  first  and  most  important  step  towards 
their  success,  after  which  it  would  be  easy  to  debate 
upon  the  means  of  turning  the  advantage  they  had 
gained  to  the  best  account  in  forwarding  the  grand 
design  of  the  conspiracy. 

But  when  the  consular  comitia,  instead  of  termi- 
natinor  in  the  advancement  of  Catiline  to  the  honour 
he  had  contemplated,  had  elevated  to  the  post  of 
chief  magistrate  a  man  whom  he  well  knew  to  be 
totally  opposed  to  his  principles,  and  incapable  of 
being  brought  over  to  his  design  either  by  bribery 
or  intimidation,  he  began,  under  the  influence  of  dis- 
appointment at  his  repulse,  to  make  preparations  for 
the  general  rising,  which  he  had  reserved  as  his  last 
expedient,  in  case  the  renewed  attempt  which  he  in- 
tended to  make  for  the  consulate  in  the  following  year 
should,  like  the  first,  prove  unsuccessful.  With  this 
view  he  began  to  send  arms  and  money,  procured 
either  by  his  own  credit  or  that  of  his  friends,  to 
several  towns  of  Italy  which  he  had  fixed  upon  as 
the  focal  points  of  the  insurrection  ;  and  more  espe- 
cially to  Faesulae  in  Etruria,  where  Manlius,  once  an 
officer  in  the  army  of  Sylla,  and  one  of  his  most 
trusty  associates,  was  already  exciting  and  organ- 
ising an  extensive  revolt  among  the  common  people. 
He,  at  the  same  time,  redoubled  his  efforts  to  add  to 


THE  LIFE  op  CICERO. 


83 


the  number  of  his  partisans  in  the  city,  enlisting  daily 
among  them  such  as  were  most  burthened  with 
debt,  and  restricting  his  exertions  by  no  regard  to  sex  ; 
since,  according  to  Sallust,  he  intended  to  employ 
his  female  allies  in  the  service  of  inducing  the  slaves 
to  aid  him,  if  necessary,  in  the  design  of  firing  the 
city,  which  he  had  begun  to  contemplate,  as  well  as 
in  gaining  over  their  husbands  to  his  cause,  or 
insidiously  affording  him  an  opportunity  for  destroy- 
ing them  if  they  should  prove  refractory. 

In  the  midst  of  these  preparations  Antonius  and 
Cicero,  differing  as  widely  as  possible  in  policy, 
character,  and  intentions,  entered  upon  the  consular 
office.  The  year  of  their  election,  however,  must  not 
be  dismissed  without  mentioning,  that,  towards  its 
close,  Cicero  is  supposed  to  have  delivered  his  oration 
in  defence  of  Quintus  Gallius ;  who  had  been  accused 
of  bribery  and  corruption  in  canvassing  for  the  prae- 
torship,  in  consequence  of  his  having,  previously  to 
the  comitia,  exhibited  a  gladiatoral  show  to  the  people. 
All  that  we  know  further  respecting  this  cause  is, 
that  the  prosecutor  was  Marcus  Calidius,  whose  man- 
ner of  conducting  itCicero  has  cited,  in  his  "  Brutus," 
as  an  instance  of  the  advantage  of  action  and  energy 
in  public  speaking.  The  plaintiff  it  appears,  among 
other  accusations,  asserted  that  Gallius  had  at- 
tempted his  life  by  poison,  but  produced  his  charge 
and  its  proofs,  which  were  sufficiently  strong,  in  so 
languid  a  manner,  and  in  so  unimpassioned  a  voice, 
that  his  opponent  availed  himself  of  them  in  man- 
aging the  defence,  and  argued,  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble that  an  assassination  could  have  been  really 
attempted,  of  which  the  person  who  pretended  to  have 
been  marked  as  the  victim  could  speak  with  so  lit- 
tle emotion*.  This  was,  certainly,  turning  to  some 
purpose  the  acknowledged  connexion  between  emo- 

*  De  Clai.  Orator.  Ixxx. 

g2 


i 


84  THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 

tion  and  expression,  but  it  was,  at  the  least,  a  singular 
way  of  answering  direct  evidence.  The  idea,  more- 
over, could  not  be  considered  entitled  even  to  the 
merit  of  originality,  since  it  is  to  be  found  in  a  passage 
in  the  life  of  Demosthenes,  well  known  to  every  clas- 
sical reader. 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO. 


85 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Consulate  of  Cicero — He  opposes  the  Agrarian  Law  of  Rullus — 
Appeases  the  Tumults,  in  consequence  of  the  theatrical  Law 
of  Roscius  Otho — Defends  Rabirius — His  Oration  "  De  Pro- 
scriptorum  Liberis  " — Progress  of  the  Catilinarian  Conspiracy — 
The  Senate  assembled  by  Cicero  to  debate  upon  the  subject — 
Decree  in  consequence — The  Conspirator  Manlius  sets  out  for 
Fsesula; — Attempt  to  assassinate  Cicero — He  assembles  the  Senate 
at  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  Stator,  and  delivers  his  first  Oration 
against  Catiline,  who  departs  in  consequence  from  Rome — Second 
Catilinarian  Oration — The  Praetor  Lentulus  carries  on  the  Con- 
spiracy in  the  capital — Cicero  undertakes  the  Cause  of  Licinius 
Muraena  in  opposition  to  Cato — Conference  of  the  Conspirators 
with  the  Ambassadors  of  the  Allobroges,  who  divulge  tlie  Plot — 
Arrest  of  Lentulus  and  his  Companions — Meeting  of  the  Senate  in 
the  Temple  of  Concord — Third  Catilinarian  Oration — Debate  re- 
specting the  punishment  of  the  Conspirators — Speeches  of  Cajsar 
and  Cato — Fourth  Catilinarian  Oration — Execution  of  Lentulus, 
Cethegus,  Statilius,  Gabinius  and  Ccaparius — Honours  conferred 
upon  Cicero — His  Vanity — Campaign  against  Catiline,  who  is 
defeated  and  slain  at  the  Battle  of  Pistoria. 

The  words  addressed  by  the  new  consul  in  the 
senate  house  to  the  tribunes  of  the  people,  after  he 
had  performed  the  customary  inaugural  rites  in  the 
temple  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  contained  no  exag- 
geration  of  the  difl&culties  by  which  his  oj9&ce  was 
surrounded.  "  You  have  delivered  a  State  into  my 
hands,"  he  remarked,  "  disquieted  by  suspicions, 
vacillating  under  the  influence  of  doubts  and  fears, 
and  violently  agitated  by  your  seditious  laws 
and  harangues;  you  have  inspired  the  worthless 
with  hope,  and  the  excellent  with  dread  ;  while 
you   have  removed  all  confidence  from   the  Forum, 


\.; 


I 


arid  all  dignity  from  the  Government."*  This 
unpromising  picture  of  affairs  was  drawn,  not  in 
consequence  of  the  more  secret  conspiracy  which  was 
meditating  against  the  state,  but  under  the  influence 
of  the  indignation  excited  by  the  Agrarian  law  of  the 
tribune  Rullus,  which  Cicero  was  obliged  strenuously 
to  combat  on  the  very  threshold  of  his  consulate,  and 
which,  if  carried,  might  have  spared  Catiline  and  his 
accomplices  at  least  some  part  of  the  labour  of  their 
attempt  to  subvert  the  constitution  by  open  force. 

The  law  to  which  allusion  was  made  in  such  un- 
favourable terms,  although,  from  the  subjects  it  em- 
braced,   entitled  to  be  classed   with  those  called  by 
a   general   name    "Agrarian,"    was   very  different 
from  the  wise  and  equitable  acts  formerly  proposed 
by  the  Gracchi   and   others,  the  true  character  of 
which,  we  are  now  enabled  by  the  genius  of  Niebuhr 
to  comprehend  somewhat  better  than  formerly.     Ac- 
cording to  the  proposed  statute  of  Rullus,  ten  com- 
missioners were  to  be  chosen  by  seventeen  tribes,  to  be 
selected  by  lot  out  of  the  thirty-five,  with  unlimited 
powers  for  the  execution  of  the  commission  with  which 
they  w^ere  to  be  charged  during  the  next  five  years. 
These  were  empowered  to  sell  all  the  territories  in  fo- 
reign countries  which,  subsequently  to  the  consulate  of 
Cor.  Sylla  and  Q.  Pompeius  Rufusf  had,  by  conquest 
or  otherwise,  been  added  to  the  dominions  of  Rome,  as 
well  as  a  great  part  of  the  lands  belonging  to  the  state 
in  Italy ;  to  determine  what  should  be  considered  pub- 
lic and  what  private  property  throughout  the  empire, 
and  to  convert  one  into  theother,  as  should  seem  expedi- 
ent ;  to  place  a  heavy  taxj  upon  all  the  lands  held 
by  Roman  tributaries,  and  to  lease  out  at  their  plea- 
sure, in  the  districts  where  they  were  situated,  all  the 
revenues  derivable  from  such  sources  ;  although  this 

*  De  Lege  Agrari4,  i.  cap.  8.  t  a.  d.  c.  665.  ^ 

X  De  Lege  Agraria,  i.  cap.  4. 


86 


THE   LIFE   Of   ClCfiRa. 


ceremony  had  hitherto  been  invariably  performed  by 
the  censors  in  the  Forum,  and  in  full   sight  of  the 
ftwembled  people*.       With  the  money  thus  raised, 
which  was  to  be  increased  by  all  the  property  lately 
gained  by  general  officers  serving  in  the  army,  (Pom* 
pey  alone  being  excepted,)  whether  reckoned  under  the 
head   of  presents   from   the    provincials,    donations 
from  the  state,  or  the  ordinary  spoils  of  wart,  and 
not  yet  expended   on  public  buildings,  or  placed  at 
the  service  of  the  commonwealth,  it  was  proposed  to 
purchase  certain  districts  in  Italy  to  be  divided  among 
the  people,    who  were  to  be   conducted   as  colonists 
into  such  places  as  the  decemvirs  should  afterwards 
think  fit ;    Capua    and  the  country  around  it  being 
especially  pointed  out  as  a  suitable  spot  for  the  loca- 
tion of  five  thousand  citizens,  who  were  each  to  receive 
ten  acres  of  land.     The  last  clause  directed,  that  all 
estates  and  possessions    publicly  granted,    sold,   or 
assigned  to    any   persons   since   the   consulship    of 
Marius  and  Carbo,  should  be  considered  rightfully 
and   inalienably  to  belong  to  the  parties  who  held 
them  at  the  time.     This  addition  was  made  for  the 
especial  benefit  of  those  who  had  become  purchasers 
of  the  property  of  the  victims  to  Sylla's  proscriptions, 
which  that  tyrant  had  ordered  to  be  put  up  to  sale, 
and  which  had  consequently  been  obtained  at   low 
prices  by  his  adherents,  the  only  persons  likely  to  bid 
for  it.     The  titles  of  these  were  now  every  day  liable 
to  be  called  in  question,  since  the  Marian  faction  was 
once  more  beginning  to  rise  into  repute,  and  it  was, 
therefore,  with  no  ill  founded  expectation  of  enlisting 
their  interests  on   his  side  of  the  question,  that  Rul  • 
lus  had  introduced  the  recognition  of  their  claims  into 
his  act. 


*  De  Lege  AgrariA,  ii.  cap.  2 1 . 

t  Aurum,  ai^cntum,  ex  pneda,  ex  manubiis,  ex  coronario,  ad 
quoscumque  pervenit,  &c.  Ibid.  xxii. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


87 


I 


^J 


/ 

1 


I 


The  orations  delivered  by  Cicero  on  the  Agrarian 
law   appear   to    have  been   four   in  number.      The 
first   of  these   is  imperfect ;  the  second   and  third 
are  yet  entire ;  but  the  fourth  has  completely  perished. 
In  haranguing  the  Senate  on  the  occasion,   he  no 
doubt  found  an  audience,  for  the  most  part,  perfectly 
disposed  to  assent  to  the  truth  of  his  arguments ;  but 
his  address  to  the  people  in  the  Forum,  upon  the  same 
subject,  must  have   required   the  utmost   skill  and 
ingenuity   to    ensure    a   patient  hearing   from    the 
multitude,  who  had  been    dazzled   by  the   specious 
promises  of  Rullus,  and  the  apparent  benefits  to  be 
confi»rred   upon  themselves  by  his  proposed  regula- 
tions.    Both  are  exhibited,  in  the  highest  degree,  in 
the  address  which  has  come  down  to  us  as  that  by 
which  he  defeated  the  designs  of  the  ambitious  tribune, 
who    was,  unquestionably,  contemplating   little  less 
than  dictatorial  power,  for  himself  and  those  who 
might    be   associated    with    him  in    his    effi)rts  to 
obtain    it,  in   the  character  of  Agrarian  decemvirs. 
The  introductory  sentences,  in  which  the  orator  re- 
turns thanks  to  the  people  for  the  distinguished  honour 
they  had  conferred  upon  him,  in  electing  him  to  an 
office  in  which  the  nobility  had,  for  the  most  part, 
hitherto  proudly  entrenched  themselves,*  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  those  of  inferior  birth,  notwithstanding  the 
absence  of  any  claims  of  his  own  on  the  score  of 
ancestry,  are  inimitably  modest  and  elegant.     He  is 
especially  careful  not  to  offend  the  prejudices  of  his 
hearers   by   any  expressions    of   disrespect   directed 
against  Agrarian  laws  in  general,  and  speaks  in  terms 
of  profound  veneration  of  Tiberius  and  Caius  Grac- 
chus, whom  he  terms  renowned  and  devoted  patriots. 
After  thus  soothing  his  auditory  into  attention,  he 
attacks    in    succession   the   various    clauses   in  the 
law  of  Rullus,  which  he  triumphantly  proves  to  be 

*  Locum  quera  nobilitas  prsesidiis  firmatum,  atque  axnni  ratione 
obvallatum  tenebat.— De  Lege  AgrariA,  ii.  cap.  1, 


68 


TDE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


arbitrary,  capricious,  and  ill  defined  ;  calculated  to 
confer  unbounded  authority  upon  a  few  individuals, 
but  in  the  highest  degree  dangerous  to  the  state, 
and  detrimental  to  the  best  interests  of  its  citizens. 
Above  all,  he  attempts  to  excite  their  fears  of  the 
rivalry  of  Capua,  if  increased  by  so  formidable  an 
addition  to  its  inhabitants  ;  and  points  to  the  insecure 
tenure  on  which  all  property  must  be  held,  if  subjected 
entirely  to  the  disposition  of  a  board  of  rapacious 
commissioners ;  as  well  as  to  the  danoer  which  must 
threaten  Rome ;  when  Kullus,  by  virtue  of  the  autho- 
rity vested  in  him  by  his  own  law,  might  at  any 
time,  if  it  should  so  please  him,  seize  and  fortify  the 
Janiculum  itself,  as  a  post  from  whence  to  exercise 
at  pleasure  his  power  over  the  city,  which  would, 
by  such  a  step,  be  placed  at  his  mercy.  The  result 
of  these  arguments,  in  proposing  which  he  was 
surrounded  and  supported  by  the  majority  of  the 
Senate,  was  such  as  indicated  a  due  appreciation  of 
their  force,  not  only  on  the  part  of  the  assembly,  but  of 
RuUus  himself ;  since  the  tribune  was  unable  to  make 
any  answer  at  the  time,  and,  after  a  few  attempts  to 
weaken  the  impression  made  by  the  eloquence  of 
Cicero  by  private  insinuations  against  his  disinterest- 
edness, which  were  also  neutralised  by  two  brief  and 
supplementary  orations,  consented  at  length  to  with- 
draw his  mischievous  statute. 

Another  instance  of  the  power  which  his  long 
established  character  and  reputation  had  now  enabled 
him  to  exercise  over  the  passions  of  the  multitude, 
was  shown  on  the  occasion  of  the  tumults  raised  by 
the  theatrical  law  of  Roscius  Otho.  The  people, 
indignant  at  the  separation  made  by  this  bill  between 
themselves  and  the  equestrian  order  at  the  exhibition 
of  dramatic  entertainments,  had,  on  the  appearance  of 
its  author  at  a  public  spectacle,  received  him  with 
groans  and  hisses,  mingled  with  loud  and  general 
execrations.     The  knights,  on  the  contrary,  who  re- 


THE   LIFE  OP   CICERO. 


89 


\ 


i 


garded  him  in  the  light  of  their  benefactor,  were 
equally  forward  in  their  expressions  of  applause,  and 
the  general  uproar  would  have  probably  terminated 
in  open  violence  and  bloodshed,  had  not  the  consul 
made  his  appearance  at  the  very  crisis  of  the  disturb- 
ance, and  desired  the  infuriated  multitude  to  follow 
him  into  the  temple  of  Bellona,  where  he  pronounced 
a  long  and  able  discourse,  commenting  in  severe  terms 
upon  their  turbulence,  and  reproaching  them  for 
the  barbarous  indications  they  had  given  of  their 
want  of  all  taste,  when  the  first  actor  of  his  day,  the 
famous  Roscius,  was  unable  to  be  heard,  in  conse- 
quence of  their  absurd  dissensions.  From  the  charac- 
ter oiven  of  this  oration,  it  seems  to  have  been  one  of 
which  the  loss  cannot  be  sufficiently  regretted*.  Its 
effect  upon  the  people  was  such,  that  their  inclination 
to  interrupt  the  exhibition  was  not  only  quelled,  but 
succeeded  by  a  feeling  of  so  opposite  a  character,  that 
on  returning  with  the  consul  to  the  theatre,  they 
displayed  their  willingness  to  acquiesce  from  that 
time  in  the  law  of  Otho,  by  vying  with  the  knights 
themselves  in  their  testimonies  of  approbation. 
Although  there  may  have  been  many  more  import- 
ant, there  is  no  more  singular  instance  of  the  power 
of  eloquence  upon  record  than  this,  on  which  the 
biographers  of  Cicero  are  fond  of  commenting,  as 
having  suggested  to  Virgil  the  beautiful  lines,  de- 
scriptive of  such  an  interposition  and  its  results,  in 
the  opening  part  of  the  first  book  of  the  jEneid. 

His  next  consular  oration,  according  to  his  own 
enumerationt,  was  that  in  defence  of  Caius  Rabirius, 
who  was  accused  of  the  murder  of  the  tribune  Satur- 
ninus,an  event  which  had  happened  more  than  thirty- 
six  years  before.     Satuminus,  having  himself  been 

♦  A  single  passage  is  all  that  remains. 

t  Ad  Attic,  lib.  ii.  ep.  1.— quarta  pro  Rabirio,  quintadeproscrip- 
torum  liberis.     Dr.  Middleton  has  reversed  the  order. 


90 


THE  LIFE   OJ?  CICERO. 


instrumental  in  the  assassination  of  Caius  Memmiu*, 
who,  as  competitor  for  the  consulate,  stood  in  the 
way  of  the  election  of  Glaucias,  one  of  his  friends, 
was  forced  with  several  of  his  adherents  to  take  refuge 
in  the  Capitol,  where  he  was  besieged  by  Caius 
Marius,  and  being  reduced  to  extremity,  from  the 
want  of  water,  was  obliged  to  surrender.  The  mul- 
titude, little  regarding  the  conditions  on  which  he  had 
given  himself  up  to  Marius,  broke  into  the  building 
in  which  he  was  confined,  and  put  him  to  death, 
together  with  Glaucias,  and  Labienus,  another  of  his 
party.  Saturninus  fell  by  an  unknown  hand,  but  it 
was  said,  that  Rabirius  had  openly  carried  his  head 
about  the  streets  of  Rome,  and  exhibited  this  re- 
volting trophy  of  the  success  of  his  party  at  differ- 
ent private  entertainments.  Notwithstanding  the 
number  of  years  which  had  elapsed  since  the  trans- 
action, Rabirius  was  now  cited  in  his  old  age  by 
Titus  Labienus,  the  nephew  of  the  individual  of  the 
same  name,  who  had  fallen  in  company  with  Satur- 
ninus, to  answer  for  a  crime  inexpiable  in  the  eyes  of 
the  majority  of  his  countrymen; — the  assassination  of 
a  tribune,  while  yet  invested  with  the  sacred  dignity 
of  his  office.  The  two  judges  appointed  by  the  praetor, 
although  the  choice  should  have  been  left  to  tlie 
people,  were  Julius  and  Lucius  Caesar,  both  bitter 
enemies  of  the  accused,  and  the  former,  a  short  time 
before,  actively  instrumental  in  exciting  Labienus  to 
take  upon  himself  the  prosecution.  Before  such  a 
tribunal,  the  cause  could  be  attended  but  with 
one  result.  Rabirius,  although  aided  by  all  the  elo- 
quence of  Hortensius,  who  appeared  as  his  advocate, 
was  eagerly  and  precipitately  condemned,  but  the 
ulterior  resource  still  remained  of  an  appeal  to  the 
people.  This  he  without  hesitation  adopted ;  yet, 
so  successful  were  the  means  which  had  been  taken 
to  inflame  the  public  mind  against  him,  and  so  vio- 


/ 


M 

if 


\ 

I 


THE  Um  OP  CICERO. 


91 


lent,  for  the  moment,  the  general  prejudice  in  favour 
of  his  accuser,  that  he  would  certainly  have  been 
condemned,  but  for  the  adoption  of  an  ultimate  ex- 
pedient to  ensure  his  safety.  During  all  assemblies 
of  the  people  in  ancient  times,  it  was  deemed  ex- 
pedient to  keep  an  ensign  flying  on  the  Janiculum, 
a  hill  which  commanded  an  extensive  view  of  Rome, 
that  the  approach  of  an  enemy,  if  it  should  happen 
to  occur  while  the  citizens  were  engaged  in  giving 
their  votes,  might  be  immediately  signified  to  the 
meeting.  The  custom  was  continued  long  after  all 
necessity  for  it  had  ceased,  and  although  the  delibe- 
rations of  the  masters  of  one  half  of  the  inhabited 
world  were  in  little  danger  of  being  interrupted  by  a 
sudden  call  to  arms,  the  lowering  of  the  ensign  on 
the  Janiculum  was  at  any  time  sufficient  to  put  an 
intant  stop  to  their  assemblies.  The  centuries  were 
already  assembled  in  the  Campus  Martius,  and  it  was 
sufficiently  evident,  from  the  expressions  and  votes 
of  the  excited  crowd,  that  the  condemnation  of 
Rabirius  would  be  carried  by  a  considerable  majority, 
when  Metellus  Celer,  who  enjoyed  the  joint  offices 
of  praetor  and  augur,  made  his  way  to  the  hill,  and 
commanding  the  ensign  to  be  struck,  rendered  all 
further  proceedings  on  that  day  illegal.  It  has  been 
conjectured,  that  the  subsequent  interposition  of  the 
Senate,  by  which  the  decree  of  his  judges  against 
Rabirius  was  formally  reversed  before  it  was  pos- 
sible to  summon  a  second  assembly,  was  the  means 
of  delivering  the  accused  from  a  capital  prosecution, 
which  threatened,  if  carried  out,  to  be  attended  with 
the  most  alarming  consequences. 

But  although  thus  deprived  of  the  power  of  ob- 
taining a  conviction  on  his  first  impeachment,  the 
expedient  still  remained  open  to  Labienus  of  endea- 
vouring to  impose  a  heavy  fine  for  general  miscon- 
duct upon  the  adversary  who  had  escaped  the  more 


92  THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 

serious  attempt  against  his  safety.  For  this  purpose 
the  people  were  once  more  convened  to  deliberate 
upon  the  conduct  of  Rabirius,  and  on  the  day  ap- 
pointed for  the  trial,  Cicero  descended  in  state  into 
the  Forum  as  advocate  for  the  accused*.  The 
defence  was  limited  by  Labienus,  in  virtue  of  his 
tribunitial  office,  to  half  an  hour,  yet,  comparatively 
reduced  as  it  must  by  this  means  have  been,  it  has 
not  been  able  to  escape  further  curtailments  by  the 
hand  of  time,  althouorh  the  peroration,  supposed 
until  lately  to  have  perished,  has  been  again  restored 
to  light  by  the  researches  of  modem  industry.  The 
cause,  which  was  ostensibly  private,  nevertheless 
embraced  a  great  public  question,  and  Cicero  seems 
to  have  been  duly  impressed  with  its  importance,  not 
only  by  the  expression  of  his  convictions  to  that 
effect,  but  by  copying,  in  the  introductory  part  of  his 
speech,  the  majestic  style  of  the  exordium  of  the  Crown 
Oration  of  Demosthenes,  an  imitation  which  a  pro- 

*  Until  within  the  last  few  years  it  was  generally  supposed,  that 
the  defence  of  Rabirius  was  pronounced  on  the  occasion  of  his 
appearing  before  the  public  in  answer  to  the  capital  charge  of 
Labienus.  But  Niebuhr,  by  whose  exertions  the  concluding  part 
of  the  oration,  together  with  an  additional  fragment  of  tlie  speech 
for  Fonteius  has  been  added  to  the  extant  writings  of  Cicero,  con- 
tends, in  opposition  to  the  authority  of  Dio,  that  it  was  delivered 
to  ward  off  from  his  client  the  consequences  of  the  process  called 
*•  Mult«  iiTogatio,"  by  which  Labienus,  being  baffled  in  the  prose- 
cution which  endangered  the  life  of  Rabirius,  directed  his  attempt 
against  his  estates ;  since  it  was  forbidden  by  a  fundamental  principle 
of  Roman  jurisprudence  to  assail,  by  the  same  proceedings,  the  pro- 
perty and  the  person  of  any  individual.  The  learned  author  and 
supporter  of  this  opinion  cites,  from  an  ancient  commentary  upon 
Cicero's  oration  .igainst  Clodius  and  Curio,  the  case  of  P.  Claudius 
■as  a  parallel  instance,  who,  after  the  loss  of  the  Roman  fleet  off 
Drepanum,  was  capitally  impeached  before  the  people  by  the  tiibuncs 
Villius  and  Fundauius,  and  the  trial  being  interrupted  by  a  sudden 
etonn,  was  afterwards  subjected  to  the  "MuUje  irrogatio,"  and  heavily 
fined  in  consequence. — See  "M.  T.  Ciceronis  Orationum  pro  M. 
Fouteio  et  pro  C.  Rabirio  Fragmenta/"  &c. — Romse,  1 820. 


TflE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


93 


1 


cess  of  the  highest  moment. could  alone  have  justified. 
In  the  defence  pronounced  in  his  behalf,  which  is 
principally  employed  in  a  consideration  of  the  murder 
of  Saturninus,    Rabirius  is   clearly  vindicated  both 
by  the  orders  and  authority  of  the  Senate,  and  the 
example  of  others,   far  above  him  in  rank,  whose 
conduct  had  never  been  arraigned  for  a  moment  or 
threatened  by  the  shadow  of  an  impeachment ;  and 
it  appears  likely,  although  but  a  partial  light  is  shed 
by  history  upon  the  subject,  that   owmg   to   the 
representations  of  his  advocate,  he  was  as  successful 
in  evading  the  second  impeachment  of  Labienus,  as  ho 
had  been  in  escaping  the  consequences  of  the  capital 
charge  previously  brought  against  him  by  the  tribune. 
The  defence  of  Rabirius  was  succeeded  by  the 
oration  to  the  people,  known  as  "  that  concerning  the 
children  of  the  proscribed."     This  was  characterised 
by  a  subservience  to  the  law  of  expediency  rather  than 
of  justice.     By  one  of  the  despotic  acts  of  Sylla,  the 
punishment  which  he  inflicted  upon  the  lives  and  es^ 
tates  of  his  opponents  was  extended  in  a  measure  to  the 
next  generation,  since  their  sons  were  expressly  de- 
clared to  be  ineligible  to  any  public  office.    Under  the 
influence  of  Julius  Caesar,  who  had  dared,  by  many 
public  actions,  to  avow  his  respect  for  the  memory  of 
Marius  and  his  intentions  to  elevate  his  party  once 
more  to  power,  an  attempt  was  now  made  to  repeal 
this  unjust  and  vindictive  edict.     Cicero,  however, 
interposed  his  authority  and  his  eloquence,  against 
any  alteration ;  softening  the  odium  he  was  likely  to 
incur  by  acknowledging  the  cruelty  of  the  act  of 
Sylla,  but,  at  the  same  time,  arguing  that  the  safety 
of  the  state  would,  under  existing  circumstances,  be 
exposed  to  imminent  hazard  by  a  change   of  the 
existing  law.     Of  this  oration  we  know  little  more 
than  that  it  was  spoken,  and  produced  the  intended 
result      It  was  not  untU  a  later  period  that  the 


I 


04 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


children  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the  cause  of 
Marius  were  restored  to  all  the  privileges  once  pos- 
sessed by  their  fathers. 

The  consular  comitia  were  now  drawing  on,  and 
the  attention  of  all  men  was  directed  with  feverish 
interest  to  their  result.  The  friends  of  Catiline  were 
again  exerting  themselves  to  the  utmost  in  their 
renewed  attempts  to  secure  his  election,  but  their 
expectations  had  been  recently  somewhat  damped 
by  the  loss  of  one  of  their  principal  supporters.  This 
was  effected  chiefly  by  the  policy  of  Cicero,  who 
had  succeeded  in  wholly  withdrawing  Antonius  from 
their  interests.  In  exercise  of  the  Sempronian  law, 
the  Senate  had  fixed  upon  Gaul  and  Macedonia  as 
the  two  consular  provinces,  and  on  their  assignment 
by  the  usual  method,  the  fortune  of  the  lot  had  given 
the  former  to  Antonius,  a  result  exceedingly  likely 
to  add  to  his  other  causes  of  disaffection,  since  it 
was  in  every  respect  inferior  to  Macedonia.  But 
Cicero  offering,  in  the  first  instance,  to  relinquish  the 
rich  province  assigned  to  himself  in  his  favour  *,  and 
subsequently  declaring  in  an  assembly  of  the  people^ 
and  notwithstanding^  their  remonstrances  asfainst  his 
resolution,  that  he  had  determined  upon  refusing  every 
foreign  appointment  for  the  present  t,  so  won  upon 
his  colleague  by  his  generosity  and  disinterestedness, 
that  from  that  time  he  showed  every  disposition 
*  to  act  entirely  in  accordance  with  his  directions^. 
Antonius,  indeed,  with  a  lucrative  post  in  prosj^ect, 
was  no  longer  disposed,  as  formerly,  to  lend  himself 
to  projects  for  disturbing  the  existing  state  of  the 
constitution.  A  further  attempt  to  impede  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  Catilinarian  party,  with  all  which 

*  In  L.  Pisoneni,  cap.  ii ;  Sallust.  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  xxvi. 

t  In  the  oration  "  In  Provincia  deponendA,"  nieutioned  by 
Cicero,  Ad  Attic,  lih.  ii.  1,  but  of  which  there  now  remaiQs  no 
vestige.  J  Plutarch,  in  Cic. 


I 


1 1 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  9^ 

Cicero  was  well  acquainted  through  Fulvia,  whom 
he  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  gain  over  to  act  as  his 
informant  in  the  early  part  of  the  year* ,  was  his 
procuring  by  an  express  law  the  penalty  often  years, 
exile  to  be  added  to  those  already  passed  against 
the  use  of  undue  influence  in  canvassing  for  office. 
Checked  by  this  obstacle  in  the  course  of  bribery 
they  were  openly  pursuing,  the  conspirators,  now 
emboldened  by  the  presence  of  numbers  of  their 
accomplices,  who  had  flocked  into  Rome  to  lend 
their  support  to  Catiline,  made  no  secret  of  their 
intention  of  assassinating  the  consul,  with  several 
others  of  his  party,  at  the  ensuing  comitia,  which 
seem  to  have  been  appointed  for  the  twentieth  day  of 
October.  At  the  same  time  their  preparations  for  a 
revolt  throughout  Italy  were  every  hour  becoming 
a  matter  of  greater  notoriety. 

In  the  dead  of  the  night  preceding  the  day  imme- 
diately before  that  of  the  election,  three  senators  of 
the  highest  rank,  Marcus  Crassus,  Marcus  Marcellus, 
and  Metellus  Scipio,  presented  themselves  at  the 
house  of  Cicero,  to  whom^  although  he  had  retired 
to  rest,  they  requested  immediate  admittance.  They 
brought  with  them  an  anonymous  intimation  of  an 
intended  massacre  of  the  nobility,  contained  in  a 
letter  which  had  been  left  at  the  residence  of  Crassus, 
late  in  the  same  evening,  by  a  person  unknown,  in 
which,  after  the  nature  of  the  threatening  danger  had 
been  pointed  out,  he  was  earnestly  requested  to 
ensure  his  safety  by  immediate  flight.  This  mys- 
terious epistle  was  accompanied  by  several  others 
directed  to  different  senators,  which  Crassus,  terrified 
by  the  contents  of  that  addressed  to  himself,  had  not 
ventured  to  open.  After  an  anxious  deliberation,  it 
was  determined  to  convoke  the  senate  the  next  day, 
and,  in  the  presence  of  the  assembly,  to  deliver  the 

*  Sallust.  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  xxvi. 


96  THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

remaining  letters  to  those  for  whom  they  were  in- 
tended, that  their  purport  might  be  generally  known. 
The  resolve  was  carried  into  practice,  and  as  soon  as 
the   senators,   wholly  ignorant  of  the   purpose   for 
which  they  were  summoned,  had  been  hastily  called 
together,  the  consul  commanded  the  letters  in  question 
to  be  brought  in  and  distributed  according  to  their 
respective  addresses.     It  was  then  found  that  each 
gave  the  same  account  of  the  plot,  and  as  soon  as  the 
subject  had  been   fairly  brought  under  discussion, 
fresh  evidence  was  not  wanting  to  confirm  the  gene- 
ral suspicion.     The  senate  accordingly  decreed  that 
the  consular  comitia  should  be  postponed,  and  that 
the  following  day,  on  which  it  had  been  determined 
that  they  should  be  held,  should  be  devoted  to  the 
further   investigation    of  the   alarming   information 
communicated  to  them.     To  what  extent  they  were 
informed  of  the  particulars  of  the  contemplated  insur- 
rection, either  at  their  first  or  second  meeting,  is  uncer- 
tain, since,  upon  many  important  points  in  regard  to 
the  Catilinarian  conspiracy,  difterent  accounts  have 
been  left  by  authorities  considered,  for  the  most  part, 
unquestionable.     It  is  evident,  however,  that  enough 
was  revealed  to  spread  a  general  alarm  among  all 
present,  and  to  implicate  Catiline  in  a  treasonable 
attempt  of  the  most  serious  description.  His  answer, 
founded  upon  his  confidence  of  success,  when  inter- 
rogated by  Cicero  upon  the  subject  *,  was  sufiiciently 
expressive  of  his  fierce  and  insolent  character.     A 
few  days  before,  when  threatened  by  Marcus  Cato 
with  an  impeachment,  he  had  answered,  "  that  any 
fire  kindled  for  the  purpose  of  injuring  him,  should  be 
extinguished,  not  by  water,  but  by  the  general  ruin." 
He  now  boldly  asserted,  that  the  state  was  composed 
of  two  distinct  bodies,  the  first  reduced  to  an  extreme 
degree   of  debility,    and  with  a  head   which    was 

*  Pro  MutKoa,  cap.  ii. 


THE  LIFE   OF  CICERO. 


97 


equally  afflicted  with  infirmity ;  the  second,  fresh  and 
vigorous,  but  as  yet  destitute  of  a  head  suitable  to  it. 
The  latter,  he  further  ventured  to  state,  had  conferred 
so  many  favours  upon  him,  that,  from  henceforth,  the 
want  should  never  be  felt  while  he  remained  alive. 
An  answer  which  partook  so  much  of  the  character 
of  a  defiance,  w^as  not  calculated  to  leave  those  to 
whom  it  was  addressed  in  any  doubt  as  to  the  course 
which  it  was  incumbent  upon  them  to  pursue.  They 
immediately   had    recourse   to   that   decree   which, 
simply  worded  as  it  was,  placed  a  terrible  power 
in  the  hands  of  the  chief  magistrates,  and  was  never 
passed  but  on  the  eve  of  some  signal  convulsion,  by 
unanimously  resolving,  that  the  consuls  should  be  de- 
sired to  take  care  that  the  commonwealth  received 
no  injury  *.     By  this  edict,  the  liberty  of  levying 
armies   and   carrying   on   war,    and   of  using   any 
methods  which  might  appear  fitting  to  keep  both  the 
citizens  and  the  allies  iii  a  state  of  subordination  to 
the  laws,  was  unreservedly,  and  without  limitation 
of  any  kind,  entrusted  to  their  hands.     Thus  armed 
and  invested  with  dictatorial  authority,  Cicero  pro- 
ceeded to  hold  the  consular  comitia.     In  order  to 
protect  himself  from  the  threatened  attempts  upon 
his  life,  he  took  care  to  be  surrounded  by  a  numerous 
and  well-appointed  guard,  and  adopted  the  precaution 
of  attending  the  Campus  Martins  in  a  coat  of  mail, 
which  he  did  not  neglect  to  exhibit  fully  in  the  eyes 
of  the  people,  by  throwing  back  his  robe  when  he 
addressed  them  ;  thus  signifying  the  peril  to  which  he 
was  exposed  in  ensuring  the  continuance  of  the  public 
tranquillity.     By  the  use  of  these  and  similar  expe- 
dients, a  great  multitude,  who  had  hitherto  remained 
neuter,   were   induced   to  give   their  votes  against 

*  Sallust  places  the  passing  of  the  decree,  "  Darent  operam," 
&c.,  something  later ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  U  was  issued  on 
the  occasion  referred  to  above. 


98 


THE   LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


Catiline,  whose  third  and  last  attempt  upon  the  con^ 
sulatewas  at  length  frustrated  by  the  election  of  Decius 
Silanus  and  Lucius  Licinius  Muraena. 

The  conspirators,  driven  to  a  state  of  anger  ap- 
proaching to  frenzy  by  the  signal  defeat  they  had  sus- 
tained, now  began  to  set  themselves  in  earnest  about 
their  final  project  of  an  insurrection.  Catiline,  without 
any  further  delay,  instructed  his  favourite  adherent 
Manlius,  who  was  then  in  Rome,  to  return  to  Faesulw, 
with  instructions  to  take  up  arms  on  the  instant  of 
his  arrival.     Septimius  of  Camerinum,  another  of  his 
band,  was  sent  into  the  district  of  Picenum  upon  a 
similar  errand,  and  Caius  Julius  into  Apulia.     He 
himself  was  no  longer  at  any  trouble  to   conceal,  by 
the  slightest  precaution,  his  meditated  attempt  against 
the  life  of  the  consul ;  publicly  displaying,  in  con- 
temptuous opposition  to  the  existing  law,  the  weapon 
with  which  he  went  at  all  times  provided  for  the 
purpose.       Everything  announced  that  the  danger, 
which  had  been  so  long  brooding,  was  fast  drawing 
towards  its  crisis.     A    few  days  only  had  elapsed 
when  Lucius  Saenius  produced  letters  in  the  senate, 
conveying  the  intelligence  that  tlie  revolt  had  openly 
burst  out  under  Manlius  in  Etruria.    Others  affirmed 
that  musters  were  being  made  in  various  parts  of 
Italy,  and  that  a  second  Servile  War  might  forthwith 
be  expected,  since  a  rising  of  the  slaves  was  on  the 
point  of  taking  place  at  Capua  and  in  Apulia.     To 
meet  the  reported    demonstrations  in  these  several.^  .^ 
quarters,  Quintus  Marcius  Rex,  who,  fortunately  for  ^ 
the  state,   had  just  returned   from  his  province  of 
Cilicia,  and  was  lying  with  a  small  army  before  the 
gates  of   Rome   in  expectation  of  a  triumph,  was 
ordered  to  direct  the  march  of  his  troops  immediately 
upon   FaBsulae.      Quintus   Metellus,  who  was   also 
anticipating  a  similar  honour,  as  the  reward  of  his 
late  successes  against  the  pirates  in  Crete,  was  sent  in 


THE   LIFE  OP  CICERO. 


99 


6,11  haste  into  Apulia ;  the  prastor  Rufus  to  Capua^ 
and  Metellus  Celer  to  Picenum.  At  the  same  time 
it  was  decreed  that  a  strong  force  should  be  kept 
constantly  stationed  on  the  Palatine  Hill,  and  that 
the  city  should  be  watched  night  and  day  by  guards 
under  the  orders  of  the  inferior  magistrates,  ap- 
pointed to  their  different  stations  by  Cicero,  who 
had  assumed  the  protection  of  Rome  as  his  especial 
duty.  Then  ensued  the  scene  depicted  by  Sallust, 
in  that  brief  yet  comprehensive  description  in 
which  every  touch  shows  the  hand  of  a  master,  of 
a  vast  multitude  suddenly  hurried  from  the  state 
of  festivity  and  thoughtless  enjoyment,  engendered 
by  a  tranquillity  of  long  duration,  into  a  con-" 
dition  of  general  distrust,  confusion,  and  dismay; 
in  wliich  the  whole  city  wore  a  troubled  and  un- 
certain aspect  between  peace  and  war;  and  when 
every  man  became  an  object  of  suspicion  to  his 
neighbour,  and  was  himself  in  turn  apprehensive 
of  all  whom  he  met.  In  the  uncertainty  which 
prevailed  as  to  the  magnitude  of  the  peril,  the 
fears  of  each  individual  were  the  only  standard 
by  which  it  was  estimated :  while  reports,  adapted 
only  to  the  credulity  of  Terror,  were  rapidly  circulated 
and  eagerly  received,  and  derived  apparent  confirma- 
tion from  the  armed  preparation  making  on  all  sides 
to  repress  the  first  appearance  of  commotion.  The 
women  of  Rome,  above  all,  increased  the  spreading 
panic  by  their  outcries  and  lamentations,  bewailing 
their  own  fate  and  that  of  their  children,  imploring, 
with  piteous  tones  and  gestures,  the  aid  of  their  gods, 
or  giving  way  to  expressions  which  betokened  an 
utter  despair  of  their  own  safety,  as  well  as  that  of 
the  commonwealth  at  large. 

Catiline,  who,  like  the  exciting  genius  of  the  tem- 
piBst,  had  surveyed  the  increase  of  the  public  confusion 
and  consternation  with  stem  satisfaction,  uninfluenced, 

h2 


100 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


and  far  less  diverted  from  his  purpose,  by  the  tokens  of 
distress  around  him,  now  thinking  his  presence  no  longer 
necessary  in  the  city,  summoned,  on  the  evening  of  the 
sixth  of  November,  a  meeting  of  the  conspirators,  to 
receive  his  parting  directions  at  the  house  of  Porcius 
Lneca.  On  the  first  of  the  month  he  had  made  a  secret 
attempt  by  night,  to  possess  himself  of  Praeneste,  a 
town  distant  about  twenty  miles  from  Rome,  but 
owing  to  the  activity  of  the  consul  had  found  it  so 
well  guarded,  that  he  was  obliged  to  retire  without 
effecting  his  object.  Convinced,  therefore,  that  in 
quitting  Rome  while  Cicero  was  still  alive,  he  must 
leave  behind  him  a  most  formidable  and  efficient 
obstacle  to  his  plans,  he  assured  his  accomplices, 
that  he  was  only  deterred  by  the  circumstance  of  his 
having  hitherto  failed  in  allTiis  attempts  to  de'stroy 
the  consul,  from  immediately  joining  the  standard  of 
the  revolters  in  Etruria,  and  advancing  from  thence 
to  cover  their  projected  insurrection  and  massacre  in 
the  city.  Two  of  the  most  determined  of  those 
present,  Caius  Cornelius  and  L.  Vargunteius,  the 
former  a  senator  and  the  latter  of  the  equestrian 
order,  excited  by  this  representation,  at  once  volun- 
teered to  take  upon  themselves  the  office  of  the 
assassination  of  Cicero,  and  promised,  under  pretence 
of  paying  their  respects  to  him  early  on  the  following 
morning,  to  despatch  him  in  his  own  house.  The 
final  preparations  were  then  made  for  carrying  out 
the  details  of  the  terrible  plan  on  which  they  had 
now  universally  determined.  The  city,  it  was 
resolved,  should  be  fired  in  several  places  at  once, 
that  the  murders  of  those  whom  they  had  selected 
for  death  might  be  the  more  easily  perpetrated,  in  the 
corffusion  which  might  naturally  be  expected  to  fol- 
low. Several  districts  were  apportioned  to  different 
incendiaries,  and  Cassius  appointed  to  the  office  of 
superintending  them,  as  well  as  of  cutting  off  all  who 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO.  lOl 

might  seem  inclined  to  exert  themselves  in  stopping 
the  conflagration.  The  execution  of  the  massacre, 
which  was  to  include  every  member  of  the  Senate  not 
of  their  party,  as  well  as  all  of  whatever  rank  who 
were  designated  by  the  name  of  their  enemies,  with 
the  exception  of  the  sons  of  Pompey,  intended  to  be 
reserved  as  hostages  for  the  future  forbearance  of 
their  father,  was  entrusted  to  Cethegus.  The  praetor 
Lentulus  was  to  take  upon  himself  the  general 
management  of  affairs  until  the  arrival  of  Catiline. 
After  this  arrangement  the  assembly  separated,  con- 
fident that  the  next  day  would  be  distinguished  by 
the  death  of  their  most  dreaded  opponent,  and  the 
removal  of  the  only  impediment.  Of  a  serious  character, 
to  the  successful  execution  of  their  design. 

The  meeting  had  no  sooner  dispersed  than  Fulvia, 
acquainted  by  Curius  with  all  that  had  passed,  hast- 
ened to  the  house  of  Cicero,  to  apprise  him  of  the 
resolutions  of  the  conspirators,  and  the  danger  to 
himself  which  the  following  morning  would  infallibly 
bring  with  it.  The  consul  was  sufficiently  impressed 
with  the  truth  of  her  report,  to  take  every  possible 
means  to  ensure  his  safety.  His  residence  was 
quickly  filled  with  guards,  and  provided  with  the 
means  of  resisting  a  sudden  attack ;  and  his  porter 
received  instructions,  if  Cornelius  and  Vargunteius 
demanded  admittance  to  him,  peremptorily  to  re- 
fuse it.  The  value  of  the  information  he  had 
received  at  this  important  juncture  was  speedily 
manifested.  With  the  first  appearance  of  dawn  the 
assassins  presented  themselves  at  his  gate,  fully  pre- 
pared for  their  attempt,  and  urgently  demanded  an 
interview  with  him,  on  pretence  of  having  intelligence 
of  the*  highest  moment  to  communicate ;  nor  were 
they  satisfied  with  the  denial  which  was  at  once 
given  to  them,  according  to  the  directions  of  Cicero, 
but  continued  for  a  long  time  to  persist  in  their  applica- 


102 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


tion,  and  were  not  finally  repulsed  without  giving 
vent  to  their  anger  and  disappointment  by  the 
most  violent  and  abusive  expressions.  Apparently 
this  desperate  action  had  the  effect  of  convincing 
Cicero  that  the  circumstances  of  his  position  were  no 
longer  such  as  to  be  trifled  with.  He  immediately 
sent  a  summons  to  the  Senate  to  meet  on  the  follow- 
ing day  in  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Stator ;  a  building 
already  consecrated  to  recollections  of  the  deliverance 
of  the  state  at  a  crisis  of  imminent  peril,  and  soon  to 
acquire,  by  the  deliberations  about  to  take  place 
within  it,  an  additional  claim  to  the  respect  of  the 
citizens  on  a  similar  ground. 

Although  with  the  usual  sensitive  apprehension  of 
guilt  he  might  have  anticipated  that  the  assembly, 
thus  hurriedly  convened,  had  been  called  together  in 
consequence  of  some  further  discovery  respecting  his 
conspiracy,  Catiline,  with  that  audacious  intrepi- 
dity which  distinguished  him  to  the  last,  ventured  to 
present  himself  before  the  consul  amidst  the  other 
senators,  intending,  as  he  himself  gave  out,  openly  to 
vindicate  himself  from  the  groundless  charges  and 
suspicions  of  which  he  had  lately  been  the  object. 
He  was  not  long,  however,  without  receiving  a  strik- 
ing testimony  of  the  estimation  in  which  he  was 
beginning  to  be  held.  As  if  his  very  vicinity  had 
been  pestilential,  all  whom  he  encountered  shrank  from 
him  in  disgust,  and  the  benches  near  the  spot  where 
he  had  seated  himself,  were  speedily  left  vacant  by 
those  who  liad  before  occupied  them.  After  he  had 
been  thus  separated  as  a  mark  for  the  eloquence 
which  was  gathering  its  thunders  against  him,  Cicero, 
amidst  the  profound  awe  and  silence  of  his  auditory, 
commenced  that  magnificent  oration,  which  may 
yet  proudly  challenge  competition  in  its  expression 
of  just  and  vehement  indignation — its  concentrated 
force — its  rapid  accumulation  of  overwhelming  evi- 


THE  LIFE   OP  CICERO. 


103 


i 


1 


dence — and  its  judicious  arrangement  of  every  par- 
ticle of  it  so  as  to  tell  with  the  most  powerful  effect. 
The  exordium,  startling,  yet  majestic  in  the  highest 
sense,  fully  prepares  the  reader  for  an  oratorical 
exertion  of  first-rate  excellence,  and  this  expectation 
is  gratified  long  before  its  close.  To  all  present 
acquainted  only  with  the  general  nature  of  the  plot, 
it  must  have  had  the  effect  of  the  sudden  glare  of 
lightning  which  lights  up  to  the  traveller,  ter- 
rified and  bewildered  by  surrounding  darkness,  the 
full  extent  of  the  precipice  on  the  verge  of  which  he 
Stands,  To  the  culprit  himself,  exposing  as  it  does 
not  only  the  excesses  of  his  former  life,  but  the 
minutest  particulars  of  his  intended  project  of  revo- 
lution and  bloodshed,  narrated  with  all  the  accom- 
panying circumstances  of  time  and  place,  it  must 
have  sounded  as  the  denunciation  of  a  superior  being, 
possessed  with  the  power  of  reading  his  most  secret 
thoughts,  or  as  if  his  inmost  conscience  had  been 
suddenly  gifted  with  a  voice  to  plead,  trumpet- 
tongued,  and  in  the  face  of  all  mankind,  against  him. 
It  affords  a  striking  comment  upon  the  eminently 
critical  position  of  the  state  at  the  time,  as  well  as  of 
the  extreme  jealousy  with  which  the  exercise  of  any 
extraordinary  power  possessed  by  their  magistrates 
was  watched  by  the  people  of  Rome,  that  the  object 
of  this  wonderful  invective  is  not  to  ensure,  as  might 
be  expected,  the  instant  seizure,  trial,  and  punish- 
ment of  the  unmasked  conspirator,  (whom  the  orator 
describes  as  sitting  with  consummate  effrontery  in 
the  presence  of  authorities  who  ought  long  ago  to 
have  ordered  him  to  be  led  to  execution,  and  regard- 
ing with  murderous  glances  those  whom  he  had 
appointed  to  destruction,)  but  simply  to  induce  him, 
after  the  exposure  of  his  design,  to  retire  from  the 
city,  and  join  the  rebels  assembling  under  his  di- 
rections in  Etruria.     This  is  almost  the  sole  drift 


104 


THE  LUi-E   OP    CICERd. 


and   tenour   of  the   profuse   genius  and  unwearied 
strength  of  language  characterising  the  first  Catili- 
narian  oration.     Yet,  although  its  object  may  appear 
trifling  compared  with  the  means  taken  to  effkit  it, 
it  was  a  trifle  upon  which  depended  the  fate  of  Rome. 
In  the  scarcity   of  direct   and   positive   testimony 
respecting  a  conspiracy  of  such  importance,  and  con- 
nected with  such  eminent  names,  if  Cicero  had  ordered 
its  chief  contriver  to  be  apprehended,  the  whole  plot 
might  have  been  disbelieved ;  but  by  driving  him  from 
the  city  into  the  arms  of  Manlius,  he  compelled  him  at 
once  to  assume  a  character  against  which  no  one  could 
deny  the  propriety  of  using  extreme  means  of  defence; 
while  the  associates  whom  he  left  behind,  might  be 
expected  to  be  paralysed  by  the  public  exposure  of 
all  the  secrets  of  their  confederacy.     Catiline,  who 
at  this  trying  moment  adopted  with  ready  prudence 
the  only  means  of  defence  left  to  him,  did  not  at- 
tempt, when    his   accuser   had  resumed    his    seat, 
to   answer  the  oration   of  the  consul  by  a  formal 
reply;  but  assuming  a  deportment  of  the   lowest 
humility,  with  downcast  looks  and  a  suppliant  voice 
began  earnestly  to  entreat  the  senators  not  to  give  a 
rash  and  hasty  credit  to  the  charges  brought  against 
him,  or  to  think  it  possible,  that  one  of  their  own 
order,  and  descended  from  a  family  which  had  con- 
ferred the  most  important  benefits  upon  the  people 
of  Rome,  could  have  any  interest  in  the  destruction 
of  the  city,  while  even  Marcus  Tullius,  an  adven- 
titious citizen,  was  labouring  to  preserve  it*.     This 
appeal,  whatever  might  have  been  the  manner  with 
which  it  was  accompanied,   contained  a  deep  and 
cutting  sarcasm  against  Cicero,  whose  birth  at  Ar- 
pinum    and     undistinguished    ancestry    were     thus 
pointedly  alluded  to.     But  in  that  great  assembly 
it   did   not  find  a  single   voice   to  second  it,  and 
Catiline,  on    proceeding   to    indulsfe  in  still  severer 
*  HiilluBt.  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  xxxi. 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


105 


*0 


expressions  against  the  consul,  was  interrupted  by  a 
general  uproar  of  indignation.     The  cries  of  traitor 
hnd parricide  resounded  in  all  directions;  and  the 
object    of    this    tumultuous    outcry,  being   saluted 
wherever  he  turned  with  expressions  of  execration 
and  abhorrence,  at  length  rose  again  to  the  proud 
and  haughty  bearing  which  was  natural  to  him, 
and  hurling  back  upon  his  clamorous  assailants  the 
threat,— tliat    since    they    refused    him    a   hearing, 
and  appeared    determined  upon  his  destruction,  he 
would  neither  perish  unresistingly  nor  alone,-— sternly 
departed  from  the   senate-house.       On  arriving   at 
his  own  residence  and  devoting  his  attention  for  a 
short  time  to  a  hurried  meditation  upon  the  course 
best  to  pursue,  he  resolved  to  put  in  practice  his  deter- 
mination of  joining  Manlius,  before  the  forces  levying 
under  the  prsetors  Rufus  and  Metellus  Celer  should 
be  ready  to  take  the  field.  Accordingly,  having  sum- 
moned and  armed  a  body  of  servants  and  retainers, 
amounting,  according  to  Plutarch,  to  three  hundred  in 
number,  and  having  given  additional  instructions  to 
Lentulus  and  the  other  chiefs  of  the  conspiracy,  to 
lose  no  opportunity  that  might  present  itself  for  en- 
suring the  assassination  of  Cicero,  or  hastening  for- 
ward'^the  other  preparations  in  hand,  that  they  might 
be  ready  to  co-operate  with  him  on  his  return  to  Rome 
with  his  army,  he  marched  out  of  the  city  on  the 
ensuing  midnight,  taking  his  course  along  the  Aure- 
lian  way.      On  his  road  he  sent  letters  to  some  of 
the  principal  nobility,  pretending  that  he  was  on  the 
point  of  retiring  to  a  voluntary  exile  at   Marseilles, 
preferring,  although  innocent  of  any  crime,  rather  to 
yield  to  the  violence  of  his  enemies,  than  to  endanger 
the  peace  of  the  state  by  resisting  it.     On  reaching  the 
territory  of  Arretium  he  spent  a  few  days  at  the  house 
of  Caius  Flaminius,  for  the  purpose  of  sowing  the 
seeds  of  revolt  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  from  thenco 


106  THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

wrote  toQuintusCatulus  at  Rome,  signifying,  in  terms 
not  very  difficult  to  be  understood,  his  real  intentions, 
and  commendincr  his  wife  Orestilla  to  his  care.  After 
this,  deeming  all  further  disguise  useless  or  unnecessary, 
he  proceeded,  with  the  fasces  openly  borne  before  him, 
and  accompanied  by  all  the  other  emblems  of  procon- 
sular dignity,  to  the  camp  of  Manlius  at  Faesulae. 

Catiline  was  no  sooner  known  to  have  quitted 
the  city,  than  Cicero  summoned  a  general  assem- 
bly of  the  people  to  meet  in  the  Forum,  intending 
to  vindicate  himself  from  reports  which  were  already 
becoming  prevalent,  that  he  had  hurried  a  Roman 
citizen  into  exile  by  an  arbitrary  exertion  of  au- 
thority, and  without  the  concurrence  of  the  senate. 
In  the  oration  which  he  then  delivered,  the  second  of 
those  spoken  on  the  subject  of  the  Catilinarian  con- 
spiracy, he  successfully  vindicated  his  late  conduct, 
and  explained  to  the  people  the  reason  why,  instead 
of  ordering  his  arrest,  he  had  been  induced  to 
connive  at  the  escape  of  the  dangerous  enemy  to  the 
public  welfare,  who  had  just  quitted  the  city.  The 
speech  has  also  an  especial  reference  to  those  who 
had  been  left  behind  to  carry  on  the  plot,  of  whom 
it  was  natural  to  suppose  there  would  be  several  pre- 
sent in  the  assembly.  Upon  such,  after  separating 
them  from  many  who  had  not  yet  reached  the  same 
gfade  in  infamy  as  themselves,  in  a  pointed  descrip- 
tion of  the  several  classes  of  persons  who  might  be 
expected  to  look  favourably  upon  the  designs  of  Ca- 
tiline, or  whohad  already  enlisted  under  his  banners,  he 
pours  an  overwhelming  torrent  of  obloquy  and  con- 
tempt ;  assuring  them,  as  he  had  assured  their  leader 
upon  a  previous  day,  that  he  was  well  acquainted 
with  every  movement  and  design  on  their  part ;  and 
requesting  them,  while  the  road  remained  still  open, 
to  follow  the  example  set  them  by  Catiline,  and  to 
free  the  city  from  their  hated  and  pernicious  presence. 


I 

■» 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


107 


The  rest  of  his  address  was  well  calculated  to  encourage 
the  citizens  to  the  fullest  confidence  in  the  resources 
possessed  by  the  state  for  their  protection,   and  the 
prudence  of  those  to  whose  management  they  were 
entrusted.     The  seditious  are  warned  at  its  conclu- 
sion, with  severe   solemnity,  not  to  tempt  too  far  a 
leniency  which  must  have  its  limits,  while  there  were 
yet  in  Rome  such  means  of  coercion  as  weapons  and 
fetters,  as  well  as  persons  ready  to  employ  them  ;  and 
the  better  disposed  members  of  the  community  re- 
quested to  second    the   efforts  of  their   magistrates, 
by   continued   vigilance     against   a   danger   which, 
although  detected,  was  yet  far  from  being  removed. 
The  fearlessness  and  spirit  shown  by  the  consul  in 
this  harangue,  were   ably  seconded  by  several  acts 
subsequently   passed   by   the   legislature.      On   the 
receipt  of  the  intelligence  that  Catiline  had  arrived  in 
the  camp  of  Manlius,  he  was  promptly  declared  a 
public  enemy.  By  the  same  edict  a  day  was  appointed, 
before  which  his  adherents  were  commanded  to  lay 
down  their  arms,  on  penalty  of  being  exempted  from 
an  intended  amnesty,  which  was  meant  to  include 
all  among  them  who  were  not  chargeable  with  capital 
offences.     An  additional  levy  of  troops  was  ordered 
to  be  set  on  foot,  for  the  purpose  of  increasing  the  army 
of  the  consul  Antonius,  with  which  he  was  directed 
to  set  out,  as  soon  as  possible,  in  pursuit  of  Catilina 
The  guards  appointed  to  watch  the  city  were  at 
the  same  time  increased,  and  its  guardianship,  as 
before,  committed  to  the  hands  of  Cicero.     Among 
these  decrees  it  has  been  recorded,  that  the  second 
proved  wholly  ineffectual.     Not  a  single  individual 
among  the  revolters  in  the  camp  of  Catiline   was 
induced  to  desert  his  standard ;  and  so  far  were  the 
symptoms  of  insurrection  from  being  suppressed  by 
the  promised  amnesty,  that  serious  movements  began 
to  take  place  in  both  the  Gauls,  as  well  as  inPicenum, 


i 


108 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


Bruttium,  and  Apulia,  which  were  with  difficulty 
checked  for  the  moment  by  the  praetors  Muraena  and 
Celer.  Still  less  were  the  conspirators  in  the  city 
itself  diverted  from  the  employment  of  every  means  of 
fulfilling  the  directions  left  them  by  their  commander. 
Although  an  ample  reward,  with  a  full  pardon,  had 
twice  beenoffered  by  the  senate  to  any  freeman,  and 
half  the  same  sum,  together  with  his  freedom,  to  any 
one  of  servile  condition,  who  would  give  such  evi- 
dence respecting  the  plot  as  might  bring  those 
engaged  in  it  to  condign  punishment,  no  one  had  as 
yet  appeared  willing  to  stand  forward  as  witness  or 
informer  against  his  companions.  Lentulus,  encou- 
raged by  this  appearance  of  unshaken  fidelity  on  the 
part  of  his  followers,  hesitated  no  longer  to  fix  the 
time  for  the  eruption  of  his  project  of  incendiarism 
and  murder,  which  he  appointed  to  take  place  in  the 
course  of  the  ensuing  Saturnalia,  when  the  festivities 
in  which  the  city  would  be  engaged  would  present  a 
favourable  opportunity  for  carrying  it  into  execution. 
Statilius  and  Gabinius  were  directed  to  lend  their 
assistance  to  Cassius  in  firing  the  city  in  twelve 
places  at  once  ;  and  Cethegus,  whose  ferocious  thirst 
for  bloodshed  had  ill  brooked  the  repeated  postpone- 
ments of  the  insurrection,  eagerly  demanded  and 
obtained  the  charge  of  besetting  the  house  of  Cicero, 
and  giving,  by  his  murder,  the  signal  for  the  com- 
mencement of  the  intended  massacre.  Torches  and 
other  combustibles,  for  beginning  and  spreading  the 
conflagration,  were  collected  in  abundance,  and  an 
immense  quantity  of  javelins,  swords,  and  daggers, 
newly  furbished  and  sharpened,  deposited  in  the 
house  of  Cethegus  in  readiness  for  immediate  use. 
While  such  were  the  preparations  of  the  conspirators, 
the  public  attention  was,  for  a  short  time,  diverted  to 
subjects  very  different  from  those  which  had  lately 
attracted  it,  by  the  impeachment  of  the  newly-elected 


I 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO.  109 

consul  Muraena,  on  the  part  of  Sulpitius  his  late  compe- 
titor, a  jurist  of  the  first  eminence,  backed  by  Marcus 
Fortius  Cato,  for  the  employment  of  bribery  at  the 
recent  election.  The  cause  employed  the  talents  of 
the  most  skilful  advocates  of  the  day,  Hortensius, 
Marcus  Crassus,  and  Cicero,  being  all  three  engaged 
in  the  defence,  which  was  eminently  successful. 

With  respect  to  the  oration  for  Mursena,  we  are 
told  that  Cicero,  fired  with  the  ambition  of  excelling 
Hortensius,  at  that  time  his  greatest  and,  indeed, 
only  rival,  devoted  himself  so  studiously  and  anxiously 
to  its  preparation  as  to  allow  himself  scarcely  any 
sleep  during  the  interval  before  the  trial,   and  that 
when  he  appeared  in  court  he  was  so  exhausted  by 
his  application,  that  his  speech  was  pronounced  with 
a  feebleness  and  difficulty  which  seemed  to  leave  the 
palm  to  Hortensius.     No  such  weakness  unquestion- 
ably is   discoverable  in   so  much  of  the  oration  as 
remains,  which  is  fortunately  the  greater  part.     The 
impeachment  itself  affords   a  curious  proof  of  the 
desultory  nature  of  accusations  in  the  Roman  courts. 
Mursena  was  charged  with  bribery  exercised  in  con- 
tradiction to   the    Calpurnian    law;  yet  two  other 
counts    were    added    specifying    reasons    why    his 
election  should  be  considered  invalid,  the  one  stating 
that  his  competitor  Sulpitius  had,  in  all  respects,  a 
better  claim  to  the  office,  and  the  other,  that  Muraena 
had  given  himself  up  to  luxury  in  Asia,  where  he 
had    actually  been    known   to  dance!     The   latter 
objection,  ludicrous  as  it  may    appear  at   present, 
was  one  of  a  formidable  character  in  the  days  of 
Cicero,  who,   so  far  from  making  any  attempt   to 
palliate  it,  declares  it  to  be  an  infamous  libel  upon 
the  character  of  his  client,  and  defends  him  by  the 
general  proposition,  that  no  person,  unless  he  were 
actually  mad  or  intoxicated,  neither  of  which  alle- 
gations had  been  brought  against  Muraena,  could  by  any 


lid  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

possibility  be  guilty  of  so  gross  an  act  of  indeconim. 
For  the  rest,  the  defence,  with  all  its  spirit  and  ele- 
gance, is  little  less  rambling  than  the  accusation.  That 
part,  however,  in  which  Cicero,  entrenching  himself 
behind  the  philosophy  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  batters 
his  Stoical  opponent  and  the  solemn  absurdities  of 
his  school,  has  not  only  its  polished  irony,  but  its 
fitness  for  the  occasion,  to  recommend  it.  It  was 
foreseen  that  the  character  of  Cato,  the  model  of  rigid 
censoriousness,  and  therefore  considered  the  only 
living  representative  of  the  ancient  Roman  virtue, 
would  add  no  small  weight  to  his  side  of  the  question, 
little  as  it  might  be  connected  with  the  merits  of  the 
cause.  The  orator,  therefore,  had  no  unimportant 
purpose  in  view,  while  stepping  out  of  his  way  to 
render  the  precepts  of  the  Stoics  as  ridiculous  as 
possible  in  the  eyes  of  the  judges,  and  no  one  who 
reads  those  parts  of  the  oration  for  Muraena  in 
which  Cato  is  alluded  to,  can  doubt  of  his  having 
thoroughly  effected  it. 

But  the  terminating  scenes  of  the  Catilinarian  con- 
spiracy soon  recalled  the  thoughts  of  the  population 
of  Rome,  to  matters  of  graver  import  than  forensic 
disputes  involving  the  tenets  of  the  rival  sects  of  the 
Porch  and  the  Academy.  Hitherto  the  conspirators 
under  Lentulus  had  acted  with  all  the  cautiousness 
which  their  perilous  undertaking  demanded.  At  un 
unfortunate  moment  for  themselves,  and  when  almost 
on  the  eve  of  the  execution  of  their  attempt,  they 
were  laid,  by  a  single  false  step,  entirely  at  the 
mercy  of  their  vigilant  adversaries.  There  happened 
at  that  time  to  be  in  Rome  a  deputation  from  the 
Allobroges,  a  warlike  and  powerful  people  of  Gaul, 
who  had  been  sent  to  complain  of  the  avarice  of  the 
magistrates  placed  over  them,  and  who  were  living, 
until  their  mission  there  should  be  completed,  under 
the  protection  of  Quintus  Fabius  Sanga,  the  public  host 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


Ill 


and  patron  of  their  nation.  Lentulus  and  his  ac- 
complices were  induced  to  think  this  a  favourable 
opportunity  of  adding  a  Gallic  war  to  the  Italian 
insurrection,  and  commissioned  Umbrenus,  one  of  their 
company,  who  had  spent  some  time  in  Gaul  and  was 
well  acquainted  with  several  of  the  princes  of  that 
country,  to  sound  them  upon  the  subject.  The  first 
interview  between  the  parties  took  place  in  the  Fonim, 
and  Umbrenus  was  easily  led  to  imagine,  that  the  de- 
puties would  be  as  ready  to  fall  in  with  his  proposal 
as  he  could  desire,  since  on  his  holding  out  to  them 
the  possibility  of  relief  from  their  oppressions,  they 
besought  him  to  take  pity  upon  their  wretched  con- 
dition, by  pointing  out  the  means  of  bettering  it, 
and  assured  him  of  their  readiness  to  encounter  any 
difficulty  or  danger  for  the  accomplishment  of  so 
desirable  an  object.  But  when  Umbrenus,  having 
conducted  them  to  a  house  near  the  Forum,  and 
summoned  Gabinius  to  join  him  to  give  an  appear- 
ance of  greater  weight  to  the  conference,  proceeded 
to  lay  before  them  the  plan  of  the  conspiracy  and 
the  names  of  those  engaged  in  it,  the  AUobroges 
began  to  be  daunted  by  the  dangerous  nature  of 
the  remedy  proposed  for  their  acceptance,  and  on 
their  return  home,  after  a  long  hesitation  as  to 
the  course  of  action  which  would  be  most  to  their 
own  interest,  determined  upon  laying  all  that  had 
been  communicated  to  them  before  their  patron 
Sanga,  by  whom  it  was  speedily  conveyed  to  Cicero. 
The  consul,  rejoiced  to  find  that  the  long- wished- for 
opportunity  was  at  length  opening  upon  him,  directed 
the  Gauls,  by  every  means  in  their  power,  to  induce 
the  conspirators  to  believe  that  they  were  ready  to 
act  in  compliance  with  their  commands,  but  to  insist 
that  all  the  advantages  which  they  were  instructed 
to  stipulate  for,  in  behalf  of  their  nation,  should  be 
promised  under  the  hand  and  seal  of  Lentulus  and 


112 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


the  rest,  who  might  be  of  sufficient  note  to  give  such 
credentials  a  character  of  respectability  and  importance. 
Little  suspecting  the  use  which  was  to  be  made  of 
such  missives,  the  leaders  of  the  plot  fell  at  once 
into  the  snare  laid  for  them.  I^etters  containing  the 
promise  of  ample  rewards  for  the  assistance  expected 
to  their  cause  from  this  new  quarter,  were  written  to 
the  chief  magistrates  of  the  Allobrogos  by  Lentulus, 
Cethegus,  and  Statilius,  and  consigned  to  the  care  of 
the  deputies  as  they  were  on  the  point  of  leaving 
Rome.  Titus  Volturcius  of  Crotona  was,  moreover, 
instructed  to  accompany  them  to  the  camp  of  Catiline, 
with  whom  it  was  deemed  expedient  that  the  ambas- 
sadors should  have  an  interview  before  returning 
home,  and  charged  by  Lentulus  with  an  epistle  to 
that  commander,  which  urged  him  to  pursue  a  bold 
and  strenuous  course,  and  suggested  the  propriety  of 
his  making  use  of  persons  of  all  conditions  to  re- 
cruit his  armies.  The  same  envoy  was  also  desired  to 
communicate  to  him,  by  a  verbal  message,  that  all 
necessary  preparations  were  finished  at  Rome,  and 
that  his  friends  were  anxiously  in  expectation  of  his 
approach  towards  the  capital. 

Cicero  had  now  within  his  grasp  the  means  of  pos- 
sessing himself  of  the  full  evidence  for  crushing  the 
heads  of  a  faction,  which,  while  the  tangible  proofs 
of  its  designs  were,  to  a  certain  extent,  deficient,  had 
continued  to  threaten  his  own  destruction  and  that 
of  the  state  with  impunity.  On  the  afternoon  before 
the  night  appointed  for  the  departure  of  the  AUobro- 
ges,  he  commissioned  the  praetors  Flaccus  and  Pon- 
tinus  with  a  body  of  chosen  soldiers,  to  place  them- 
selves in  ambush  at  the  Milvian  bridge,  by  which 
the  ambassadors  were  obliged  to  cross  the  Tiber  to 
enter  upon  the  Flaminian  way,  and  sent  to  the  same 
spot  a  number  of  young  men  from  the  praefecturate 
of  Reate,  on  whose  fidehty  he  could  rely  with  perfect 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


113 


confidence.  The  praetors  arrived  at  their  appointed 
post  as  the  evening  began  to  draw  in,  and  having 
planted  their  guards  at  both  ends  of  the  bridge  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  escape  casual  observation,  awaite<l 
the  approach  of  the  ambassadors  and  their  train. 
Until  about  two  hours  after  midnight,  their  watch 
was  maintained  without  interruption,  but  at  that 
time  the  parties  whomthey  expected  at  length  made 
their  appearance,  and  were  proceeding  to  defile  over 
the  bridge,  when  the  soldiers  placed  in  ambush  on 
either  bank  of  the  river,  rising  at  the  same  moment 
with  loud  shouts,  summoned  them  instantly  to  sur- 
render. A  slight  confusion  ensued,  which  was  but 
momentary  in  its  duration.  The  Gauls,  who  quickly 
understood  the  nature  of  the  interruption,  yielded 
themselves  without  opposition,  and  Volturcius,  who 
had  at  first  unsheathed  his  sword  for  the  purpose 
of  making  a  desperate  resistance,  on  finding  that 
his  efibrts  were  not  likely  to  be  seconded  by  a  single 
person  in  his  company,  gave  up  his  weapon  to  the 
praetors,  and  consented  to  become  their  prisoner. 
All  were  conducted  back  to  Rome,  and  the  despatches 
seized  upon  the  AUobroges  as  well  as  upon  the  per- 
son of  Volturcius  transmitted,  before  day-break,  to 
Cicero,  who  lost  not  a  moment  in  summoning  some  of 
the  chief  senators  to  his  house,  to  deliberate  upon  the 
discovery,  and  the  use  to  be  made  of  it.  Several  of 
those  who  were  present  at  this  council  advised  that  the 
letters  should  be  immediately  opened,  anticipating  the 
possibility  of  their  containing  nothing  of  public  im- 
portance, but  Cicero,  who  was  well  aware  of  their 
general  tenor,  determined  upon  preserving  the  seals 
entire,  until  he  should  have  an  opportunity  of  read- 
ing them,  for  the  first  time,  before  a  full  senate,  which 
it  was  agreed  should  be  convened  upon  the  following 
day.  In  the  meantime  messengers  were  sent  to 
Lentulus,  Cethegue,  Statilius,  Gabiniua,  and  Quintus 


114  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

Coeparius  of  Terracina,  desiring  them  without  delay 
to  attend  the  consul  at  his  house  upon  important 
business.  Coeparius,  suspecting  the  reason  for  which 
his  presence  was  required,  endeavoured,  instead  of  com- 
plying with  the  command,  to  secure  himself  by  flight, 
but  was  quickly  overtaken  and  brought  back  by  a  party 
who  had  left  the  city  in  pursuit  of  him.  The  rest,  on 
presenting  themselves  at  the  house  of  Cicero,  were  suc- 
cessively arrested  and  placed  in  secure  keeping.  The 
praetor  Caius  Statilius  was  then  despatched  to  the 
house  of  Cethegus  to  search  for  the  arms  deposited  in 
it,  and  speedily  brought  away  the  whole  magazine  of 
weapons  provided  for  the  approaching  insurrection. 

The  temple  of  Concord,  the  place  appointed  for 
the  meeting  of  the  Senate,  which  on  this  important 
occasion  was  crowded  to  excess,  presented  on  the  open-? 
ing  of  the  business  of  the  day,  a  solemn  and  imposing 
spectacle.  The  members  were  no  sooner  seated  than 
Cicero  entered,  leading  by  the  hand  Lentulus  in  his 
full  dress  as  praetor,  since  it  would  have  been  con- 
sidered an  indignity  for  any  one  lower  in  rank  than 
himself  to  lay  the  least  public  restraint  upon  his  per- 
son. Theother  prisoners  followed  closely  guarded.  Vol- 
turcius  was  then  introduced  in  a  state  of  the  greatest 

•  •  •  O 

agitation,  in  consequence  of  the  terror  occasioned  by  his 
recent  seizure,  and  the  contemplation  of  the  dangerous 
predicament  in  which  he  stood.  His  replies  were  at 
first  vague  and  unsatisfactory,  but  on  being  informed 
that  the  public  faith  would  be  pledged  for  his  pardon 
and  safety,  on  condition  of  his  bearing  evidence  against 
his  companions,  he  consented  to  give  upon  the  spot  a 
full  and  distinct  account  of  as  much  of  the  conspiracy 
as  he  had  been  made  acquainted  with.  The  ambas- 
sadors of  the  AUobroges  were  next  examined,  and  con- 
firmed the  testimony  of  the  preceding  witness,  dis- 
closing the  promises  of  assistance  given  them  under 
oath  by  the  principal  conspirators ;  and  adding,  that 


I 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  115 

Lucius  Cassius  had  enjoined  them  to  be  particular  in 
raising  and  sending  across  the  Alps  as  great  a  body 
of  Gallic  cavalry  as  possible,  since  there  would  be  no 
want  of  infantry  in  the  armies  of  the  insurgents. 
They  also  stated  that  Lentulus  had  assured  them,  from 
the  Sibylline  books  and  responses  of  the  haru- 
spices,  that  he  was  the  third  of  the  Cornelian  family 
who  was  destined  to  arrive  at  despotic  power  in 
Rome,  two  of  the  Cornelii,  Cinna  and  Sylla,  having 
ajlready  preceded  him  in  that  condition  of  hazardous 
exaltation* ;  and  that  his  reliance  upon  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  prediction  was  strengthened  by  other 
prophecies  on  the  part  of  the  diviners,  importing  that 
the  present  year,  which  was  the  twentieth  from  the 
burning  of  the  Capitol,  would  be  rendered  famous  by 
the  destruction  of  the  city  and  empire  of  Rome. 

After  this  evidence  had  been  heard,  the  senators 
proceeded  to  the  examination  of  the  letters  found 
upon  the  Allobroges,  Cethegus  was  first  shown  his 
seal,  and  acknowledged  it.  The  thread  of  the  epistle 
which  it  secured  was  then  cut  by  Cicerot,  and  the 
contents  made  public,  after  which  the  criminal,  who 
had  at  first  assumed  a  resolute  bearing,  and  accounted 
for  the  arms  in  his  house  by  asserting,  that  he  had 
always  been  known  to  be  curious  in  collecting  a  choice 
armoury,  was  unable  to  utter  a  word  further  in  his 
defence.  Statilius,  on  finding  his  handwriting  brought 
against  him  in  a  similar  manner,  also  freely  confessed 
his  guilt.  Lentulus  acknowledged  by  a  careless  nod 
of  assent  his  seal,  which  bore  the  head  of  his 
grandfather,  the  famous  Lentulus,  who  had  distin- 
guished himself  as  the  opponent  of  Gracchus;  but  after 
the  whole  evidence  in  his  case  had  been  heard,  rose  in 
the  place  where  he  was  yet  seated  in  his  senatorial 
character,  and  began  severely  to  cross  examine  Voltur- 

*  In  Catilinam,  iii.  4  ;  Sallust.  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  xlvii. 
f  In  Catilinam,  iii.  5, 

I  2 


116 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


cius  and  the  other  witnesses.     This  lasted  until  he 
was  asked  by  them  in  his  turn,  whether  he  had  never 
made  any  mention  of  the  prophecies  respecting  him- 
self contained  in  the  Sibylline   books,  when,  to  the 
surprise  of  all  present,  instead  of  denying  the  fact,  as 
he  might  easily  have  done,  he  suddenly  lost  his  pre- 
sence of  mind,  became   confused    and   admitted  the 
charge.     The  letter  written  in  his  own  hand  to  Cati- 
line* was  then  desired  by  Volturcius  to  be  produced, 
and  completed  his  confusion ;   nor  did   he  make  any 
attempt  at  his  vindication  after  this  direct  and  palpa- 
ble proof  of  his  treason.      Gabinius   was   the   last 
brought  forward,  and  although  he  at  first  strenuously 
denied  all  that  had  been  advanced  by  the.  Gauls, 
his  confession  was  speedily  added  to  those  of  the  rest. 
As  soon  as  the  investigation  was  concluded,  Lentulus 
was  commanded,  by  an  universal  vote  of  the  senate, 
to  abdicate  the  office  of  praetor,  and  having  been  pub- 
licly divested  of  his  robes,  was  committed  to  the  cus- 
tody of  Publius  Lentulus,  surnamed  Spinther,  at  that 
time  gedile.     Cethegus  was  entrusted  to  the  guardian- 
ship of  Quintus  Cornificius,  and   Statilius  to  that  of 
Julius  Caesar,  then  praetor  elect.     Gabinius   was  ap- 
pointed to  be  kept  in  the  house  of  Marcus  Crassus,  and 
Coeparius  in  the  residence  of  the  senator  Cneius  Teren- 
tins.     The  assembly  next  passed  a  vote  of  thanks  to 
Cicero,  as  the  preserver  of  his  country,  couched  in  the 

♦  The  words  of  this  letter  are  eomewhat  differently  given  by 
Cicero  and  Sallust.  The  former,  however,  in  his  speech  to  the  people, 
(In  Cat.  iii.)  in  which  it  is  to  be  found,  probably  quoted  from  memory 
only,  while  Sallust,  no  doubt,  had  an  opportuuity  of  inspecting  the 
originiil  document,  of  which  he  professes  to  give  an  actual  copy. 
According  to  the  latter  author,  it  was  expressed  as  follows : — "  Who 
I  am,  you  will  know  from  the  messenger  whom  I  have  sent.  Re- 
flect upon  the  desperate  situation  in  which  you  are  placed  ;  and, 
remember  your  character  as  a  man.  Consider  what  your  critical 
circumstances  require,  and  seek  assistance  from  all — even  from  the 
lowest."— Sallust.  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  x\\r. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  117 

most  honourable  and  flattering  terms;  and  further 
ordered,  that  the  ceremony  entitled  a  supplication,  or 
public  thanksgiving,  should  be  solemnly  performed  in 
acknowledgment  of  the  merit  of  the  consul,  as  one 
who  had  preserved  the  city  from  conflagration,  its 
inhabitants  from  massacre,  and  the  whole  of  Italy 
from  the  desolation  and  horrors  of  a  general  war. 
The  latter  decree  was  intended  and  considered  as  an 
extraordinary  mark  of  respect,  since  it  was  the  first 
time  that  such  an  honour  had  been  conferred  upon 
any  magistrate  wearing  the  dress  of  peace.  To- 
wards the  evening  of  the  same  day,  Cicero  delivered 
his  third  Catilinarian  oration  to  the  people  from  the 
rostra,  in  which  most  of  the  particulars  relative  to  the 
detection  of  the  conspiracy  were  recited; — the  ap- 
proaching punishment  of  those  chiefly  concerned  in  it 
darkly  hinted  at ; — the  interposition  of  the  Gods,  and 
more  especially  of  the  Capitoline  Jupiter,  claimed  as 
having  been  exerted  in  a  manner  palpably  miracu«- 
lous  for  the  preservation  of  Rome ; — and  the  citizens 
exhorted  to  abandon  all  their  fears,  and  devote  them- 
selves with  their  families,  in  obedience  to  the  edict 
of  the  senate,  to  the  joyful  commemoration  of  their 
si^al  deliverance.*  

*  Some  parts  of  this  oration  are  singularly  indicative  either  of 
superstition  on  the  part  of  Cicero  himself,  or  of  his  knowledge  of  the 
most  effectual  way  of  availing  himself  of  such  a  feeling  on  the  part 
of  his  auditors.  He  alludes  to  meteoric  phaenomena  in  the  heavens, 
tempests,  and  earthquakes,  during  his  consulate,  as  plainly  prognos- 
ticating the  danger  which  the  state  had  just  escaped,  and  dwells 
upon  another  trivial  coincidence,  with  an  appearance  of  triumphant 
confidence.  The  statue  of  Jupiter  in  the  Capitol  having,  among 
others,  been  struck  down  by  lightning  in  the  consulate  of  Torquatus 
and  Cotta,  the  Etrurian  diviners  had  directed  that  another  of  much 
larger  dimensions  should  be  erected,  and  placed  in  a  position  con- 
trary to  that  of  the  former,  so  as  to  face  the  east  and  look  down 
upon  the  Forum  and  the  Curia,  or  senate-house,  below.  The  erection 
of  this  statue  had  been  undertaken  by  the  former  consuls,  but  had, 
from  various  causes,  been  delayed  until  the  very  morning  of  the  full 
discovery  of  the  conspiracy,  when  it  was  raised  to  its  pedestal  pre- 


118 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


Amidst  the  plaudits  of  the  multitude  and  escorted 
by  an  immense  crowd,  Cicero  retired  from  the  Forum 
to  the  house  of  one  of  his  friends,  to  pass  a  night  of 
watchfulness  and  anxious  deliberation  upon  the  course 
which  it  would  be  expedient  to  adopt  with  respect 
to  the  conspirators  then  in  custody.     On  the  one 
hand,  he  was  apprehensive  if  he  exercised  towards 
them  the  full  severity  which  their  crimes  had  deserved, 
that  he  might  at  a  future  day  fall  a  victim  to  a  revul- 
sion of  popular  feeling,  under  which  his  conduct,  how- 
ever applauded  at  a  crisis  of  danger,  might  be  regarded 
as  cruel  and  arbitrary ;  while  if  he  suffered  criminals 
of  so  daring  a  character  to  escape  with  their  lives,  he 
was  confident  that  his  own  would  be  sooner  or  later 
the  penalty  of   his  too  great  leniency  or  timidity. 
A  message  from  his  wife  Terentia  is  said  to  have 
determined  him  towards  the  more  vigorous  course. 
The  residence  of  Cicero  was,   on  that  evening,  the 
scene  of  those  hidden  rites  performed  by  the  Roman 
women  in  honour  of  the  mysterious  personage  called 
the  Bona  Dea,  during  the  celebration  of  which    no 
one  of  the  other  sex  was  allowed  to  cross  the  threshold 
of  the  house  in  which  they  were  offered.     The  sacri- 
fices usual  at  these  solemnities  had,  we  are  informed, 
been  made,  and  the  ashes  upon  the  altar  were  thought 
to    be  extinguished,  when  those  who  were  present 
were  astonished  and  dismayed,  by  the  sudden  bursting 
forth  of  a  flame  of  extraordinary  extent  and  brilliancy 
from  the  embers.     The  vestal  virgins,  however,  who 
were  presiding  at  the  ceremony,  one  of  whom  was 
the  sister  of  Terentia,  took  upon  themselves  to  give  a 
favourable  interpretation  to  the  omen,  and   desired 
that  Cicero   might   be   immediately  informed,  that 
whatever  design  he  was   at  that   time   meditating 

ciaely  at  the  moment  at  which  Lentulus  and  his  companions  were 
being  led  through  the  Forum  to  their  trial.  This  circumstance  is 
dwelt  upon  as  an  infallible  token  of  Divine  favour. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


119 


» 


might  be  boldly  pursued,  as  it  was  manifestly  de- 
clared by  such  a  sign  to  be  in  accordance  with  the  will 
of  the  Gods. 

This  story,  of  whatever  amount  of  credit  it  may  be 
thought  worthy,  is  related  by  Plutarcli ;  who  adds 
that  Terentia,  at  all  times  ready  to  take  more  than  a 
befitting  part  in  directing  the  political  conduct  of  her 
husband,  used  her  full  influence  on  this  occasion  to 
excite  him  to  the  utmost  severity  towards  the  conspi- 
rators, and  that  her  efforts  were  warmly  seconded  by 
his  brother  Quintus  Cicero  and  Publius  Nigidius, 
one  of  his  friends,  in  whose  judgment  he  w^as  accus- 
tomed to  place  great  confidence. 

Without  pronouncing  upon  the  motives  by  w^hich 
these  advocates  of  extreme  measures  were  influenced, 
it  is  certain  that  the  occurrences  of  the  following  day 
amply  demonstrated  the  necessity  of  taking  some 
decisive  step  with  respect  to  the  prisoners.  The 
senate  having  met  to  determine  upon  the  rewards  to 
be  given  to  those,  by  whose  evidence  the  plot  had 
chiefly  been  brought  to  light,  Lucius  Tarquinius.  who 
had  been  seized  by  the  common  people  as  he  was  on 
the  point  of  quitting  the  city,  on  suspicion  oi  hi» 
being  one  of  the  emissaries  of  Catiline,  was  brought 
before  the  house,  and  after  being  interrogated,  under 
a  public  promise  of  pardon  if  he  should  reveal  the 
truth,  added  intelligence  of  the  most  startling  nature 
to  the  other  details  of  the  conspiracy,  in  which  his 
evidence  precisely  corresponded  with  that  before  given 
by  Volturcius.  He  stated,  that  he  had  been  commis- 
sioned by  no  less  a  person  than  Marcus  Crassus,  to 
convey  a  message  to  Catiline,  exhorting  him  not  to 
be  discouraged  by  the  arrest  of  Lentulus  and  his  con- 
federates, but  to  consider  that  there  was  now  an 
additional  necessity  for  his  accelerating  his  march 
upon  Rome,  that  he  might  revive  the  spirits  of  his 
adherents,  and  rescue  his  friends  from  danger.     The 


120 


*nE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


121 


senators  were  confounded  at  the  disclosure,  but  they 
did  not  dare  to  carry  their  inquiries  further,  and 
resolved  rather  to  leave  the  participation  of  Crassus 
in  the  design  in  uncertainty,  than  to  provoke  so 
powerful  a  citizen  openly  to  act  against  them  by 
giving  credit  to  their  informant*.  They,  therefore, 
adopted  the  prudent  policy  of  decreeing,  that  the 
testimony  of  Tarquinius  appeared  unfounded  and 
calumnious,  and  that  he  should  be  committed  to 
prison  until  he  thought  proper  to  confess  by  whose 
instigation  he  had  been  induced  to  invent  the  mani- 
fest falsehoods  to  which  he  had  given  utterance. 
But,  at  the  same  time,  reports  of  an  attempt  being 
in  preparation,  on  the  part  of  the  inferior  members  of 
the  conspiracy,  to  rescue  their  leaders  from  confine- 
ment, began  hourly  to  become  more  prevalent,  and 
to  receive  stronger  confirmation.  It  was  ascertained, 
that  Cethegus  had  sent  messages  to  his  slaves  and 
retainers,  encouraging  them  to  take  arms  and  assault 
the  house  of  Cornificius,  and  several  of  the  friends 
and  freedmen  of  Lentulus  were  discovered  to  have 
offered  liberal  rewards  to  many  amon^the  artisans 
and  lower  orders  of  Rome,  to  induce  them  to  break 
out  into  an  immediate  revolt  in  his  favour.  Cicero, 
therefore,  convinced  that  any  means  of  suppressing 
the  threatened  violence  must,  to  be  effectual,  be  put 
in  practice  immediately,  having  suffered  another 
night  alone  to  intervene,  summoned,  on  the  nones  of 

•  Sallust.  Bell.  Cat.  cap.  xlviii.  If  Cicero  has  made  no  mention 
of  this  trausactiou  in  his  speeches,  there  can  be  little  diflSculty  in 
accounting  for  his  silence  upon  the  subject.  The  historian  who  has 
recorded  it  adds,  that  the  consul  was  himself  suspected  of  being  the 
Mcrct  author  of  the  chai-ge,  with  the  intention  of  terrifying  Crassus 
into  a  total  abandonment  of  the  conspiracy,  and  even  that  he  had 
himself  openly  heard  Crassus  affirm  as  much  at  a  later  period.  Tliis, 
however,  must  be  considered  as  at  the  best  but  ex  parte  evidence. 
The  real  extent  to  which  Crassus  was  concerned  in  the  designs  of 
Caiiline,  must  always  remain  a  matter  of  doubt  and  obscurity. 


II 


"II 


December  (the  fifth  of  the  month),  a  full  senate  in 
the  temple  of  Concord,  and  laid  before  them  the 
momentous  question,  "  What  it  was  their  plejisure 
to  decree  with  respect  to  those  who  had  lately  been 
delivered  into  custody  V  The  debate  which  ensued 
is  well  known  to  every  reader  of  Sallust ;  for  who, 
after  having  been  once  acquainted  with  his  writings, 
can  have  forgotten  the  account  of  its  striking  vicis- 
situdes and  impressive  result,  left  us,  as  perhaps  the 
most  carefully  finished  specimen  of  his  varied  powers, 
by  that  nervous  and  energetic  historian  ?  Decius 
Silanus,  as  consul  elect,  being  first  asked  his  opinion 
concerning  the  treatment  of  the  prisoners,  as  well  as 
of  their  accomplices,  Cassius  *,  Furius,  Umbrenus, 
and  Annius,  who  had  not  yet  been  apprehended,  if 
they  should  hereafter  be  taken,  gave  his  vote  unre- 
servedly for  the  infliction  of  capital  punishment. 
Several  senators  followed  his  example,  until  the  first 
indication  of  an  opinion  opposed  to  the  extreme 
severity  advised  by  Silanus,  was  given  by  Tiberius 
Nero,  grandfather  of  the  craifty  and  tyrannic  emperor, 
who  recommended  that  the  prisoners  should  be  de- 
tained in  confinement  until  the  complete  suppression 
of  the  revolt  of  Catiline,  when  the  subject  might 
again  more  advantageously  be  brought  before  the 
senate.  The  next  speaker  was  Cains  Julius  Cassar, 
the  main  substance  of  whose  oration,  for  the  words 
are  pregnant  with  the  ordinary  and  characteristic 
*  style  of  the  writer,  has  been  recorded  by  Sallust. 
Whether  the  dream  of  ambition  which  this  highly- 
<rifted  and  aspiring  character  afterwards  endeavoured 
to  realise,  was  yet  anything  more  than  a  dazzling 
and  indefinite  phantasy  ;  or  whether  he  had  already 
determined  upon  the  general  tenor  of  his  future 
career,  and  adopted  the  resolution  of  leaving  no  op- 

*  Lucius  Cassius  had  left  the  city,  as  we  learn  from  Sallust, 
immediately  before  the  departure  of  the  Allobroges. 


122 


THE    LIFE   OF  CICERO^ 


portimity  unimproved  for  advocating  what  might 
appear  the  interest  of  the  popular  cause  against  the 
aristocratic  faction,  until  he  had  sufficiently  wasted  the 
power  of  the  latter  to  have  nothing  to  fear  from  a 
competitor  or  an  opponent  in  his  advance  to  absolute 
dominion,  is  of  course  uncertain.  It  is  sufficiently 
known,  however,  that  at  this  moment  he  was  the 
subject  of  no  common  dislike  to  the  nobility,  and 
most  strongly  suspected  of  seconding,  by  encourage- 
ment of  every  kind  which  fell  short  of  compromising 
his  own  safety,  any  attempt  which  might  be  formed 
against  the  existing  government.  Two  of  his  most 
bitter  enemies,  Quintus  Catulus  and  Caius  Piso,  (the 
former  of  whom  had  unsuccessfully  contested  the 
high  priesthood  with  him,  while  the  latter  had  been 
forced  to  appear  by  his  means  in  the  character  of  de- 
fendapt  in  a  prosecution  for  misconduct  during  his 
government  of  Hither  Spain,)  had  endeavoured  at  this 
crisis  to  effect  his  ruin,  by  earnestly  entreating  Cicero 
to  allow  a  false  accusation  of  participating  in  all  the 
designs  of  Catiline  to  be  brought  against  him  by 
means  of  the  Allobroges*.  This  nefarious  proposition 
was  firmly  rejected ;  but  although  Caesar  was  thus 
saved  from  the  peril  of  a  criminal  accusation,  his  life 
had,  but  two  days  before,  been  nearly  ended  bythemore 
open  violence  of  the  opposite  party ;  since,  as  he  was 
leaving  the  senate-house,  several  of  the  young  patri- 
cians who  formed  a  voluntary  guard  around  the 
person  of  Cicero,  encircled  him,  with  bitter  terms  of 
hatred,  and  brandished  weapons  which  they  would 
have  been  ready  to  stain  with  his  blood,  on  the  least 
look  or  sign  on  the  part  of  the  consul  which  could 
be  construed  into  an  expression  of  assent.  Upon 
his  cool  and  fearless  temperament,  however,  such  a 
hazard,  or  the  prospect  of  its  recurrence,  was  likely 
to  make  but  little  impression.  He  now  stood  for- 
♦  SaUuBt.  BeU.  CatUin.  xlix. 


f 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  123 

ward  with  an  amendment  to  the  proposition  of 
Silanus,  advising  that,  instead  of  being  consigned  to 
the  hands  of  the  executioner,  the  conspirators  should 
be  condemned  to  perpetual  imprisonment  in  different 
municipal  towns ;  and  that  whoever  should  at  a 
future  time  endeavour  to  influence  the  senate  or  the 
people  to  mitigate  their  sentence,  or  make  any  motion 
on  their  behalf,  should  be  declared  an  enemy  to  the 
commonwealth  and  to  the  general  safety.  Nor  were 
specious  arguments,  brought  forward  with  consum- 
mate skill,  wanting  to  support  his  opinion.  Without 
attempting  to  deny  that  the  criminals  had  merited 
the  infliction  of  the  severest  penalty  that  could  be 
devised,  he  hinted  at  the  danger  to  which  such  a 
precedent  might  expose  the  state  at  some  future 
period,  when,  however  justifiable  and  meritorious  in 
the  present  instance,  it  might  be  made  use  of  to 
cover  the  most  terrible  despotism.  He  reminded 
those  present  of  the  necessity  of  subduing  all  private 
feelings  of  resentment  while  sitting  in  judgment 
upon  their  fellow- citizens,  adding,  that  in  proportion 
to  the  (external  dignity  which  they  individually,  or  as 
a  body,  possessed,  would  be  the  general  expectation 
of  strict  impartiality  in  their  decision.  He  instanced 
various  occasions  on  which  the  Roman  people,  al- 
though provoked  by  repeated  injuries  on  the  part  of 
hostile  nations,  had,  in  the  moment  of  victory, 
inclined  to  the  side  of  mercy,  from  a  consideration  of 
what  was  due  to  the  national  character,  rather  than 
of  what  was  deserved  by  their  enemies.  He  endea- 
voured, moreover,  to  show,  that  even  should  it  be 
resolved  to  listen  to  the  demands  of  justice  alone, 
and  inflict  the  most  terrible  punishment  upon  the 
condemned,  that  recommended  by  Silanus  could  by 
no  means  be  considered  as  such.  Death,  he  argued, 
in  perfect  accordance  with  the  tenets  of  the  Epicu- 
rean school  of  philosophy,  then  fashionable,  was  no 
more  than  a  full  release  from  the  miseries  incidental 


194  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

to  human  life — a  limit  beyond  which  there  was  no 
further  place  for  the  exercise  of  passions  or  sensations 
of  any  kind. 

The  speech  of  Caesar,  which  was  followed  by  the 
accession  of  several  members  to  the  more  merciful 
view  of  the  question,  drew  forth  from  Cicero  his 
fourth  and  last  oration  on  the  subject  of  the  con- 
spiracy of  Catiline.  Tliis,  although  it  purported  to 
be  an  impartial  examination  of  the  two  opinions 
proposed,  must  have  left  no  doubt  on  the  mind  of 
any  one  present  as  to  the  coiirse  which  the  consul 
intended  to  advise.  The  vivid  colours  with  which 
the  atrocity  of  the  design  and  the  still  critical  con- 
dition of  the  state  are  depicted — the  frequent  allu- 
sions to  the  attempts  of  the  conspirators  upon  his 
own  life,  and  the  pathetic  recommendation  of  his 
family,  in  the  event  of  any  accident  happening  to 
himself,  *to  the  care  of  the  republic — the  difficulties 
placed  in  the  way  of  the  plan  of  Julius  Caesar — and 
the  hints  that  all  preparations  had  been  made  public 
for  the  execution  of  that  advocated  by  Silanus, 
without  any  danger  of  disturbing  the  public  peace, 
are  indications  of  his  real  sentiments,  which  could 
never  for  a  moment  have  been  intended  to  be  mis- 
taken. Yet  the  eloquence  of  the  speaker  was  too 
indirect,  for  so  important  an  occasion,  to  be  effectual. 
Quintus  Cicero,  in  company  with  many  other 
senators,  declared  himself  in  favour  of  the  advice 
given  by  Caesar,  and  Silanus  himself  intimated  his 
mtention  of  abandoning  his  original  motion.  The 
lives  of  the  conspirators  would  certainly,  for  that 
time  at  least,  have  been  saved,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  efforts  of  Lutatius  Catulus,  and,  above  all,  for  the 
stem  and  ironical  address  of  Marcus  Porcius  Cato, 
which,  like  that  of  Caesar,  has  been  preserved,  and 
probably  in  some  measure  supplied,  by  Sallust. 
Amidst  the  icy  glitter  of  its  stoical  rhetoric,  there  is 
an  absence  of  all  feeling,  which  appears  strangely 


I 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO.  125 

revolting  after  the  specious  gentleness  and  humanity 
of  the  address  of  Caesar,  and  a  proud  and  obtrusive 
cersoriousness  only  likely  to  produce  the  effect  of 
offending  most  of  his  auditors.  As  it  was,  the 
whole  was  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  sentiments 
of  the  sect  of  which  he  was  considered  the  ornament. 
Compassion  was  assigned  no  place  in  the  list  of 
virtues  recommended  by  Zeno  and  his  followers,  nor 
were  their  doctrines  particularly  calculated  to  produce 
the  grace  of  personal  humility.  But  there  is  at  the 
same  time  a  plain  sense  and  fearlessness  apparent  in 
the  arguments  by  which  the  speaker  is  represented 
as  supporting  his  view  of  the  existing  emergency ; 
and  a  strength  in  his  representations  of  the  necessity 
incumbent  upon  his  countrymen  to  pursue  the  most 
vigorous  and  decisive  line  of  action,  while  the  sword 
of  Catiline  was  at  their  very  throats,  and  his  follow- 
ers ready  to  pursue  to  the  utmost  any  opportunity 
of  advantage  afforded  by  their  vacillation  and  weak- 
ness, admirably  calculated  to  produce  the  intended 
impression  upon  the  great  body  of  senators  who  were 
yet  undecided,  and  which,  as  we  are  told,  actually 
brought  many  back  to  their  first  resolutions,  who  had 
been  led  away  by  the  milder  sentiments  of  Caesar. 
The  balance  was  now  completely  turned,  and  it  was 
at  length  decreed  by  a  majority  of  the  senate,  in  the 
words  of  Cato,  that  those  who  had  meditated  the 
destruction  of  the  city  by  fire  and  sword,  and  had 
been  convicted  of  this  treasonable  design,  and  of 
many  others,  by  the  evidence  of  the  Allobroges,  as 
well  as  by  their  own  confession,  should  be  visited 
with  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law,  according  to 
ancient  custom.* 

Although  it  was  late  in  the  day  before  this  decree 
was  passed,  Cicero,  to  whom  its  execution  was  in- 
trusted, was  resolved  not  to  suffer  another  night  to 
intervene  before  carrying  it  into  effect.    After  sending 

*  SaUuit.  BeU.  Cat.  lii. 


f 

K 


126 


THE    LIFE   OP  CICERO. 


instructions  to  the  officers  of  justice,  to  make  all  the 
necessary  preparations,  he  repaired  with  his  guards, 
and  a  great  number  of  the  principal  senators,  to  the 
house  in  which  Lentulus  was  confined,  and  having 
demanded  him  from  his  keepers,  conducted  him  from 
the  Palatine  Mount  through  the  Forum  to  the 
public  prison.  In  this  building,  about  twelve  feet 
under  ground,  was  a  noisome  and  frightful  dungeon, 
called  the  TuUianum,  from  one  of  the  ancient  kings 
of  Rome  by  whom  it  was  supposed  to  have  been 
built,  with  massive  walls  of  stone,  and  a  vaulted 
roof  of  the  same  material,  which  was  seldom  visited 
by  a  ray  of  light  from  without,  the  only  means  of 
access  to  it  being  by  a  trap -door  in  the  ceiling*. 
Within  its  dismal  precincts  Lentulus  was  expected 
by  the  public  executioners,  and  on  being  let  down 
into  it  in  the  usual  manner,  was  immediately  seized 
and  strangled.  Cethegus,  Statilius,  Gabinius,  and 
Ooeparius  having  been  successively  conducted  to  the 
same  spot  by  the  praetors,  were  put  to  death  in  a 
similar  way. 

While  this  terrible  exhibition  of  public  justice  was 
in  progress,  the  people  of  Rome  having  gathered  in 
immense  crowds  along  the  ways  which  led  towards  the 
prison,  looked  on  in  awe  and  silence,  as  at  the  perform- 
ance of  some  mysterious  ceremony  on  the  part  of  the 
aristocracy,  which  they  but  partially  understood 
and  in  which  they  were  but  indirectly  concerned  f. 
The  consul,  on  leaving  the  prison  with  his  escort, 
had  again  to  pass  through  the  multitude,  and  observ- 
ing certain  persons  among  them  whom  he  suspected 

*  This  dungeon  is  still  exhibited  at  Rome,  beneath  the  church 
of  San  Pietro  in  Vincole,  but  considerable  alterations  have  been 
made  in  it  since  the  time  of  Cicero.  "  The  modem  door,'*  says 
Eustace,  ^'  was  opened  through  the  side  wall,  when  the  place  was 
converted  into  a  chapel  in  honour  of  St.  Peter,  who  is  supposed  to 
have  been  confined  in  it.  Notwithstanding  the  change,  it  has  still  », 
most  appalling  aspect.** 

t  Plutarch  in  Cic. 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO.  127 

of  forming  part  of  the  band  of  conspirators,  called  to 
them  with  a  loud  voice,  and  informed  them,  witli 
the  usual  periphrasis  to  which  the  ancients  had 
recourse  when  speaking  on  the  ominous  subject  of 
mortality,  that  their  companions  had  ceased  to  exist. 
This  announcement  on  the  part  of  Cicero  drew  forth 
repeated  shouts  of  approbation  from  the  bystanders, 
and  on  his  further  progress  homeward  he  had  no 
reason  to  complain  of  any  signs  of  indifference  on 
the  part  of  his  countrymen,  or  of  any  deficiency 
I  in  their   external   indications   of  deep    and   enthu- 

«  siastic  gratitude.      It    was   now  night,    but   every 

house  by  which  he  was  expected  to  pass  was  illu- 
minated by  lamps  and  torches  placed  at  the  doors, 
while  the  roofs  were  crowded  with  the  Roman 
women,  who  held  forth  their  lights  from  the  para- 
pets as  he  passed,  and  saluted  him  as  the  preserver 
of  the  city,  and  the  guardian  of  their  own  lives 
and  those  of  their  children.  Fresh  honours  were 
not  long  in  being  added.  Most  of  the  municipal 
towns  in  Italy,  as  soon  as  intelligence  was  brought 
of  the  suppression  of  the  plot,  passed  decrees  in 
which  the  patriotism  of  the  consul  was  eulogised  in 
the  highest  terms  of  praise.  The  people  of  Capua 
enacted  that  his  statue,  richly  gilded,  should  be 
forthwith  erected  in  their  qity,  and  that  he  should 
be  declared  their  perpetual  and  only  patron.  Lucius 
Gellius  asserted  in  presence  of  the  senate,  that  he  was 
justly  entitled  to  the  gift  of  a  civic  crown  on  the  part 
of  the  republic.  Catulus,  in  a  full  assembly  of  that 
order,  hailed  him  with  the  proud  and  unexampled 
appellation  of  Father  of  his  Country* ;    and  when 

•  The  classical  reader  need  hardly  be  reminded  of  the  beautiful 
lines  upon  this  subject  by  the  greatest  of  satirists,  ancient  or  modem. 

Hie  novus  Arpinas,  ignobilis,  et  modo  Romae 
Municipalis  Equcs,  galeatum  ponit  ubique 
Presidium  attonitis  et  in  omni  gente  laborat. 
Tantum  igitur  rouros  intra  toga  contulit  illi 
Nominis  et  tituli,  quantum  non  Leucade,  quantum 


]28 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


Cato,  in  a  speech  to  the  people  abounding  with  his 
praises,  alluded  to  him  by  this  title,  it  was  repeatedly- 
confirmed  with  loud  and  continued  plaudits  on  the 
part  of  the  multitude.     Such,  while  the  minds  of 
men  were  under  the  influence  of  recent  events,  were 
the  rewards  of  the  consistent  and  certainly,  after  all 
deductions  have  been  made,  noble  and  patriotic  course 
which  he  had  recently  pursued  for  the  preservation  of 
the  commonwealth.     But  the  first  feeling  of  satis- 
faction at  having  escaped  so  imminent  a  danger  was 
scarcely  over,  when   the    necessary  reaction  began. 
The  nobility,  although  they  liad  been  perfectly  willing 
that  Cicero  should  take  the  post  of  peril  and  respon- 
sibility, when  their  own  lives  and  possessions  were 
threatened,  were  not  likely  to  forgive  one  whom  they 
scornfully  designated  a  new  man,  for  having  inflicted 
an  ignominious  death   upon  scions  of  the  illustrious 
house  of   the  Cornelii.      Among  the  commons  also 
there  were  many  who  regarded  the  late  exercise  of 
power  on  the  part  of  the  consul,  as  a  violation  of  the 
Porcian    law,    and    consequently    as    a    serious    in- 
fringement  upon    the    existing    constitution.        The 
undetected     participators    in    the    conspiracy    had 
more  serious  grounds   for  their  dislike  of  the  per- 
son   by    whose    instrumentality  their    design    had 

Thesfulix  campis  Octavius  abstnlit  udo 
Caedibus  aasiduis  gladio.    Scd  Roma  parfntem — 
Roma  PATUKM  PATKiiE  Ciceroncm  libera  dixit. 

Juv.  Sat.  viii. 
Yes  he,  poor  Arpine  of  no  rank  at  home. 
And  made,  and  liurdly  made,  a  Knight  at  Rome, 
Secured  the  trembling  town,  placed  a  firm  guard 
In  every  street,  and  toilM  in  every  ward — 
And  thus  within  the  walls  in  peace  obtainM 
More  fame,  more  honour,  than  Augustus  gain'd 
At  Actium  or  Philippi  from  a  flood 
Of  patriot  gore,  and  sword  still  drench'd  with  blood ; 
For  Rome,  free  Rome,  hail'd  him  with  loud  acclaim 
The  Father  of  bis  Country — glorious  name. 

OiFroRD*8  translation. 


) 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  129 

been  foiled,  and  their  leaders  sentenced  to  con- 
dign punishment.  All  these  were  united  into  a  party 
acting  under  Caesar  as  their  principal,  and  encou- 
raged in  their  discontent  against  Cicero  by  the  tri- 
bunes, whose  policy  it  invariably  was,  after  ascertain- 
ing its  direction  and  bias,  to  place  themselves  at  the 
head  of  every  popular  movement.  A  sufficient  proof 
of  the  disposition  of  the  latter  magistrates  to  ofier  him 
every  molestation  in  their  power,  was  shown  at  the 
termination  of  his  office,  when  it  was  customary  for 
the  consuls  to  take  a  public  oath  that,  during  the  year 
of  their  authority,  they  had  done  nothing  contrary  to 
the  laws.  The  opportunity  was  generally  taken  to 
add  an  address  to  the  people  on  the  most  remarkable 
events  of  their  magistracy.  When  Cicero,  who  ap- 
prehensive of  some  disturbances  on  the  occasion  had 
thought  it  necessary  to  summon  Publius  Sextius  with 
an  army  from  Capua  to  preserve  peace  in  the  city, 
made  his  appearance  in  the  Forum,  and  was  about  to 
commence  his  oration  to  the  citizens,  the  newly 
elected  tribune,  Quintus  Metellus  Nepos,  who  had 
placed  his  chair  upon  the  rostra  for  the  purpose  of 
inflicting  this  public  indignity  upon  him,  perempto- 
rily commanded  him  to  forbear,  and  to  confine  him- 
self to  the  usual  oath.  The  ingenuity  of  Cicero 
found  a  ready  way  of  turning  the  restriction  to  his 
advantage,  and  instead  of  making  an  elaborate  speech 
upon  his  consulship,  of  compressing  all  he  had  intended 
to  say  into  a  small  compass;  since,  in  the  place  of 
the  customary  formula,  he  swore,  that  in  his  year  of 
office  he  had  preserved  both  the  city  and  the  empire 
from  total  ruin.  Thunders  of  assent  on  the  part  of 
the  assembly,  who  were  conscious  of  his  not  having 
exaggerated  his  services,  expressed  the  general  testi- 
mony of  his  countrymen  to  the  justice  of  this  striking 
and  unexpected  declaration,  and  Cicero  was  once  more 
escorted  home  by  an  admiring  and  applauding  crowd. 


130  THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 

Yet  much  of  the  advantage  he  might  have  derived 
from  the  recollection  of  his  eminent  merits,  was 
weakened  or  lost  hy  the  repetition  of  the  same  self- 
eulogy  on  less  justifiable  occasions.  His  auditors 
grew  weary  of  discourses,  of  which  the  extent  of 
their  obligations  to  the  speaker  was  the  constant 
burden,  and  his  best  friends  were  at  last  oftended  by 
a  vanity,  which  seemed  only  to  increase  in  its  de- 
mands, in  proportion  as  attempts  were  made  to 
gratify  it.  The  tribute  which  he  exacted,  he  was,  in- 
deed, at  all  times  ready  to  render  in  his  turn.  It 
has  been  observed,  and  the  observation  is  confirmed 
by  almost  every  page  of  his  writings,  that  there  was 
nothing  of  a  monopolising  spirit  in  his  eagerness  for 
praise,  since  he  seldom  lost  an  opportunity  of  men- 
tioning, with  even  more  than  due  honour,  those  among 
his  contemporaries,  whose  talents  or  virtue  he  had 
reason  to  respect.  But  if  it  be  true  that  he  had,  at  all 
times,  sufficient  candour  to  allow,  and  to  point  out, 
the  merits  of  others,  it  must  at  the  same  time  be 
conceded,  that  no  man  ever  seems  to  have  been  pos- 
sessed of  a  more  sensitive  and  overweening  con- 
sciousness of  his  own. 

It  remains  briefly  to  advert  to  the  termination  of 

» 

the  career  of  the  desperate  adventurer,  who  now  a 
declared  outlijw  and  enemy  to  the  state,  and  deprived 
of  all  hope  of  succour  from  his  friends  at  Rome,  con- 
tinued, nevertheless,  to  maintain  in  Etruria  a  bold 
front  aorainst  the  danorers  which  threatened  him  on 
every  side.  Before  the  news  of  the  execution  of 
Leutulus  and  the  rest  of  the  conspirators  arrived,  he 
had  managed  to  collect  a  sufficient  number  of  adhe- 
rents to  form  two  legions,  the  ordinary  strength  of 
a  consular  army,  and  might  have  raised  a  far  more 
imposing  force,  had  he  not  constantly  rejected  the 
assistance  of  the  fuofitive  slaves,  who  flocked  to  him  in 
crowds,  disdaining  to  allow  the  contes^.  on  which  he 
had  entered  to  assume  the  character  of  a  Servile  War. 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO.  131 

The  resolution  of  his  partisans  was  the  most  formid- 
able feature  in  his  army,  since  not  more  than  a  fourth 
part  of  it  were  furnished  with  the  weapons  employed 
by  the  legionary  soldiery,  the  rest  contenting  them- 
selves with  such  ill-fashioned  darts  and  slender  lances 
as  were  used  in  hunting  by  the  rustic  population  of 
Italy,  or,  in  default  of  these,  with  stakes  sharpened  at 
the  end.  Yet,  with  the  ill-provided  throng  under 
his  command  he  contrived,  after  entering  the  defiles 
of  the  Apennines,  for  some  time  to  baffle  and  elude 
the  forces  of  the  state,  and  would  not  have  hesitated 
to  advance  upon  the  capital,  had  not  the  intelligence 
of  the  suppression  of  the  conspiracy,  causitig  numer- 
ous desertions  among  his  followers,  and  convincing 
him  that  all  was  lost  in  that  quarter,  induced  him  to 
change  his  first  design  to  a  strenuous  attempt  at 
exciting  an  insurrection  in  Cisalpine  Gaul.  With 
this  resolution  he  pursued  his  road  among  the  moun- 
tains, hoping,  by  rapid  movements  and  forced  marches, 
to  escape  the  pursuit  of  the  consul  Antonius,  who, 
with  an  army  much  exceeding  his  own  in  number,  and 
perfectly  equipped  for  service,  followed  with  all  haste 
upon  his  rear.  But  in  this  expectation  he  was  fated 
to  encounter  a  bitter  disappointment.  The  praetor 
Metellus  Celer,  who  had  been  stationed  in  Picenum 
at  the  head  of  three  legions,  conjecturing  what  must 
necessarily  be  his  operations,  had  in  the  meantime 
hastily  decamped,  and  having  moved  along  the  eastern 
side  of  the  Apennines  towards  the  defiles  by  which 
the  insurgents  were  expected  to  enter  Gaul,  was  now 
lying  at  the  foot  of  the  hills,  with  the  intention  of 
intercepting  them  on  their  descent  to  the  level 
country.  Catiline,  thus  enclosed  between -two  armies, 
and  seeing  no  possibility  of  escape,  turned  at  length, 
like  the  hunted  wolf,  upon  his  pursuers,  and  preferring 
to  encounter  the  force  acting  under  Antonius,  although 
considerably  larger  than  that  of  Metellus,  from  a  faint 

k2 


J  32 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


expectation  that  the  consular  general,from  the  recollec- 
tion of  past  friendship,  and,  perhaps,  of  companionship 
in  gnilt,  might  prove  a  more  favourable  or  a  less 
active  antagonist,  offered  him  battle  in  an  advan- 
tageous position  near  the  town  of  Pistoria.     As  the 
cohorts  of  the   republic  came   in   sight,  under  the 
command    of  the   legate   Petreius,   (since  Antonius 
pleading  an  indisposition,  which   was  strongly  sus- 
pected of  being  feigned,  declined  to  appear  in  the 
field,)  he  made  a  last  speech  to  his  men,  breathing  his 
usual  fiery  and  determined  sentiments,  and  exhorting 
all  about  him  to  prefer,  if  unsuccessful,  an  honourable 
death  to  the  more  ignominious  fate  which  would  in- 
fallibly be  inflicted  upon  them  if  they  were  taken. 
After  this,  having  sent  away  every  horse  from  his 
lines,  that  all  might  be  exposed  to  the  same  danger, 
he  made  his  final  dispositions,  and  taking  his  station 
with  the  most  elevated  of  his  adherents,  beside  his 
favourite  silver  eagle,  which  had  once  witnessed  the 
Cimbric  triumphs  of  Marius,    firmly   awaited    the 
charge  of  the  enemy  *.    The  conflict  which  ensued  was 
in   the   highest   degree  severe  and  desperate.     The 
armies    encountered  without  the  usual  preliminary 
interchange  of  missiles,  being  determined  to  bring  the 
xiecision  of  the  affair,  as  soon  as  possible,  to  close  com- 
.bat  at  the  sword's  point ;  and  the  ground  was  at 
.first  manfully  disputed,  neither  party  for  some  time 
yielding  a  single  foot  to  their  opponents.     But  the 
utmost  valour  of  the  insurgents  necessarily  proved,  at 
length,  unavailing  against  an  enemy  who  combated 
them  with  equal  courage,  and  an  overwhelming  supe- 
riority of  strength.    Petreius  led  his  praetorian  cohort 
against  them  in  front,  and  vigorous  attacks  being,  at  the 
same  moment,  made  upon  both  their  flanks,  the  success 
of  the  battle  was  no  longer  doubtful.     Manlius,  who 
commanded  their  right  wing,  fell   among   the  first 
slain.     The  rest  were  successively  cut  off,  defending 

•  Sallast.  Bell.  Catil.  lix. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


133 


themselves  obstinately  to  the  last,  and,  for  the  most 
part,  covering  with  their  bodies  the  exact  spot  upon 
which  they  had  commenced  the  engagement.     Not  a 
single  free-born  citizen  was  taken  alive  of  the  whole 
number  present.     Catiline  himself,  as  soon  as  he  per- 
ceived  the  fortune   of  the  day  finally  determined, 
rushing  desperately  into  the  midst  of  his  enemies, 
met  at  length  with  the  death  of  which  he  was  in 
search  by  an  unknown  hand.  He  was  found,  after  the 
battle,  lying  far  in  advance  of  his  own  front,  amidst 
a  group  of  the  carcasses  of  his  enemies,  still  faintly 
breathing,   and  exhibiting  in  his  latest  moments  the 
ferocity  of  aspect  for  which,  during  his  life,  he  had 
been  noted.     The  insurrection  which  had  struck  so 
much  terror  into  the  people  of  Rome,  was  thus  ended 
by  a  single   engagement ;   but  the  victorious  army 
had  little  reason  to  rejoice  at    its  issue,   since  the 
flower  of  the  troops  of  Antonius  were  either  left  upon 
the  field  or  disabled  by  severe  wounds.     The  num- 
ber of  those  slain  on  the  part  of  the  conquerors,  is 
not  precisely  known,  but  the  loss  of  the  vanquished 
was  reckoned  at   three  thousand.     Antonius,  imme- 
diatdy  after  the  battle,   sent  the  head  of  Catiline  to 
Rome,  and  on  tlie  reception  of  this  token  of  success 
the  citizens  laid  aside   the  mourning  garb  they  had 
assumed  at  the  commencement  of  the  conspiracy,  and 
decreed  a  second  public  thanksgiving  to  the  gods  for 
the  removal  of  the  threatened  danger.     Of  the  con- 
spirators who  were  not  present  at  the  battle  of  Pis- 
toria, or  who  had  escaped   from"  it  by  flight,  many 
were  afterwards  taken  and   executed.     Several  were 
also  betrayed  to  the  senate  by  Lucius  Vettius,  one  of 
their   number,   who,  on  being  apprehended,  turned 
evidence  against  the  rest.     Cassius,  Laeca,  Vargun- 
teius,  Autronius,  with  others  who  had   been  most 
conspicuous    in  the   conspiracy,   were   banished;    a 
few  tried   and  acquitted;  and  many  others,  whom 
Vettius  was  preparing  to  denounce,  saved  by  the  in- 


134 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


tervention  of  the  senatore  ;  who,  either  distrusting  the 
veracity  of  the  informer,  or  apprehensive  of  his  impli- 
cating more  than  it  would  be  safe  to  prosecute, 
silenced  him  by  a  hint  tliat  they  were  beginning  to  be 
weary  of  his  disclosures,  which  he  at  once  understood 
and  obeyed. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Domestic  Dissensions  at  Rome  between  the  Anstocracy,  and  the 
popular  Party  under  Julius  Ca's:\r  and  the  Tiibune  Metellu« — 
Letter  of  Cicero  to  Pompey — Oration  for  Publius  Svlla — Cicero 
removes  from  his  Residence  on  the  Palatine  Hill  to  the  House  of 
Livius  Drusus — Violation  of  the  Kxtfs  of  the  Bona  Dea  by 
Publius  Ciodius — Disputes  ocrasionod  by  his  Impeachment — 
Pompey  returns  from  his  MithiidaMc  Expedition  to  Rome — 
Meeting  in  the  Flaminian  Circus — Trial  of  Ciodius,  who  is  ac- 
quitted— Evidence  of  Cicero  on  the  occasion — Speech  for  the 
Poet  Archias — Third  Triumph  of  Pompey. 

Rome,  although  freed  from  the  more  serious  perils 
which  had  lately  environed  it,  by  the  suppression  of 
Catiline's  insurrection  in  Etruria,  still  continued,  like 
the  troubled  sea  after  the  tempest  has  subsided,  to  be 
agitated  by  various  less  violent  commotions — the 
effects,  in  the  estimation  of  most,  of  the  turbulent 
crisis  through  which  it  had  lately  passed,  but,  in 
the  eyes  of  more  prudent  observers,  the  signs  Jilso  of 
convulsions,  equally  serious,  to  come.  Caesar,  who 
had  now  entered  upon  his  praetorship,  and  who  was 
in  close  league  with  the  tribune  Metellus,  the  most 
active  instrument  of  the  popular  party,  continued 
from  this  time  more  openly  his  endeavours  to  lower 
Cicero,  of  whose  reputation  he  had  become  in  the 
highest  degree  jealous,  in  the  estimation  of  his  coun- 
trymen. It  was  probably  at  his  suggestion,  that 
Metellus,  in  an  address  to  the  people  in  the  early 
part  of  the  year,  accused  the  late  consul  of  having 
acted  in  opposition  to  the  laws,  by  inflicting  death 
upon  the  five  conspu'ators  recently  executed  without 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  135 

any  regular  form  of  trial.     That  as  much  was  as- 
serted, we  may  be  confident  upon  the  authority  of 
Cicero ;   who  also  mentions,  that  in  answer  to  the 
harangue  of  the  tribune,  he  was  induced  to  write, 
and  possibly  to  deliver,  an  oration  in  defence  of  his 
conduct.*     Whether  this  was  the  same  alluded  to  by 
Plutarch   in  his  life  of  Crassus,  as  the  oration  upon 
his  consulate,  or  whether  he  published  under  that 
title  the  speech  which  he  had   been  prohibited  by 
Metellus   from  delivering  to  the  citizens,  seems  un- 
certain, as  there  exists  no  positive  evidence  upon  the 
subject.      The  attack  upon  Cicero  was  followed  by 
one  directed  against  Catulus  by   Caesar  in  person, 
who,  in  his  capacity  of  praetor,  summoned  that  emi^ 
nent  senator  to  appear  at  his  tribunal,  on  a  charge  of 
having  embezzled  the  public  money  while  presid- 
ing over  the  erection  of  the  Capitol.     Catulus  had 
brought  this  show  of  hostility  upon  himself,  by  his 
zealous    speech  against  Caesar  in  the  senate- house 
during  the  debate  on  the  subject  of  the  punishment 
of  the  conspirators,  as  well  as  by  his  ready  aid  in 
furthering  all   the  designs  of  Cicero  upon  that  oc- 
casion.    The  senate,  however,  espoused  his  cause  so 
warmly,  that  the  prosecution  was  allowed  to  drop. 
Caesar  and  Metellus  on  this  shifted  their  ground,  and 
being  still  determined  to  try  all  means  of  lowering 
the  influence  of  the  aristocracy,  prepared  a  law  which 
the  tribune  proposed  to  the  people  for  their  accept- 
ance, enacting,  that  Pompey  should  ^be  recalled  with 
his  army  from  the  Mithridatic  war,  which  was  on 
the  eve  of  expiring,  to  assist  in  restoring  the  state  to 
tranquillity.     The  most  violent  opposition  was  made 

*  Ad  Attic,  i.  1.3.  The  passage  in  the  twelfth  epistle  of  the 
second  book  of  his  letters  to  Ait\cus,  which  has  been  sometimes 
supposed  to  bear  reference  to  this  option,  is  considered  by  the 
best  authorities  to  allude  to  that  afterwards  pronounced  against 
Ciodius  and  Curio. 


136 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


by  the  senate  to  this  edict  the  instant  it  was  brought 
forward,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  patricians  as- 
sumed a  mourning  habit,  apprehending  nothing  less 
than  absolute  despotism  on  the  part  of  a  commander 
who  would  thus  be  virtually  created  supreme  arbiter  • 
of  the  fortunes  of  the  commonwealth.  Cato,  at  that 
time  tribune  of  the  people,  notwithstanding  the  en- 
treaties of  his  friends  and  relatives,  stood  forward  at 
the  first  reading  of  the  bill,  to  place  his  absolute 
negative  upon  it.  The  attempt  was  made  with  con- 
siderable danorer  to  himself,  since  Caesar  and  Metellus 
had  occupied  the  temple  of  Castor  as  a  post  of 
vantaore  with  a  strong  body  of  armed  men,  and 
crowded  the  steps  of  the  building  with  a  company  of 
gladiators,  for  the  purpose  of  preventing,  or  speedily 
silencing,  the  opposition  which  they  expected.  Yet, 
notwithstanding  these  formidable  preparations,  Cato, 
as  soon  as  Metellus  began  to  read  his  proposed  law, 
sternly  ordered  him  to  be  silent,  and  on  finding  this 
interposition  ineffectual,  forcibly  wrested  it  from  his 
hand.  Metellus,  thus  interrupted,  endeavoured  to 
pronounce  his  edict  from  memory,  but  in  this  he  was 
also  prevented  by  Minutius  Thermus,  one  of  his  col- 
leagues in  the  interest  of  Cato,  who  placed  his  hand 
before  his  mouth.  A  considerable  number  of  the 
people,  at  the  same  time,  struck  with  a  feeling  of 
respect  for  the  undaunted  courage  with  which 
Metellus  was  opposed,  began  loudly  to  signify  their 
approbation.  J^  scene  of  tumult  aud  uproar  suc- 
ceeded. On  a  sign  given  by  Metellus,  his  gladiators 
and  armed  partisans  pouring  down  upon  the  citizens, 
speedily  drove  the  crowd  before  them,  and  Cato,  who 
was  for  some  time  exposed  to  a  shower  of  sticks  and 
stones,  might  have  sustained  serious  injury  had  he 
not  been  rescued  by  Muraena  the  consul,  against 
whose  election  he  had  so  strenuously  exerted  himself. 
The  latter,  now  forgetful  of  their  recent  enmity,  on 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


137 


I 


finding  all  remonstrances  in  his  behalf  unattended 
to,  covered  him  for  some  time  with  his  gown  from 
the  fury  of  his  assailants,  and  at  length  raising  him 
in  his  arms,  carried  him  into  the  temple  of  Castor^ 
while  Metellus  finding  the  field  clear,  resumed  the 
reading  of  his  bill  to  his  own  faction.     But  the  op- 
posite party,  who  had  only  retired  far  enough  from 
the  scene  of  action  to  rally  and  reassume  some  ap- 
pearance   of    order,    quickly   returning   with    loud 
shouts,  the  favourers  of  the  bill,  who  imagined  that 
their  adversaries  had  now  provided  themselves  with 
weapons,  and  were  fully  prepared  for  a  conflict  of  a 
more  serious  kind  than  they  had  before  sustained, 
fled  in  their  turn  from   the  Forum,  and  Metellus 
seeing  that  he  was  totally  deserted  by  his  former 
supporters,  was  obliged  to  follow  their  example.   He 
was  prevented  from  making  a  second  attempt  to 
enforce  his  act  by  the  authority  of  the  senate,  who, 
by  an  express  decree,  determined  that  it  was  con- 
trary to  all  law,  and  replete  with   danger  to  the 
existing  government,  and  that  it  was  therefore  in- 
cumbent upon  all  good  citizens  to  resist  it  to  the 
utmost.      Yet,   although  thus  baffled,  he  was  far 
from  being  disconcerted,  and  being  unable  to  ingra- 
tiate himself  further  with  Pompey  by  any  additional 
attempts  to  extend  his  authority  at  Rome,  he  resolved 
to  present  himself  before  him  in  the  character  of  one 
whose  interests  had  sufl*ered  by  a  too  warm  espousal 
of  his  cause,  hoping  by  this  means  to  secure,  for  the 
future,  no   inconsiderable  share  of  his  favour  and 
protection.      In  pursuance   of  his  design,   he  first 
summoned  an  assembly  of  the  people,  and  having 
endeavoured  to  inflame  them  against  Cato  and  the 
aristocratic  party  by  a  bitter  and  malignant  speech, 
set  off"  for  Asia  to  lay  his  complaints  and  represent- 
ations of  all  he  had  endured  before  the  general,  of 
whose  interests  he  had  been  the  uninvited  advocate. 


i 


138  THE   LIFE    OF   CICERO. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  he  endeavoured  at  the  same 
time  to  work  upon  the  jealousy  of  Pompey,  by 
representing  Cicero  to  him  as  a  most  formidable 
rival  in  the  popular  estimation,  and,  in  consequence 
of  his  recent  services  to  the  state,  all  but  absolute  at 
Rome.  This  is  the  most  obvious  method  of  ac- 
counting for  the  fact,  that  in  his  despatches  to  the 
senate  after  the  discovery  of  the  Catilinarian  plot, 
in  which  he  informed  them  of  the  termination  of  the 
Mithridatic  war,  as  well  as  in  his  private  letters  to 
Cicero,  Pompey  made  no  allusion  whatever  to  the 
conduct  of  the  late  consul  in  his  office,. or  to  the 
honours  bestowed  upon  him.  His  silence  on  the 
subject  drew  from  Cicero  an  epistle  still  extant, 
which  is  far  from  iminteresting,  as  throwing  consider- 
able light  upon  his  character,  and  exhibiting  to  the 
fullest  extent  the  acute  sensitiveness  with  respect  to 
the  praise  and  censure  of  others,  for  which  he  was 
through  life  remarkable ;  and  which,  if  it  proved 
at  times  a  transient  means  of  enjoyment,  was  the 
source  from  which  he  more  frequently  derived  the 
most  painful  and  mortifying  feelings  of  disappoint- 
ment.    Its  contents  are  as  follows : — 

"  MARCUS  TULLIUS  CICERO  TO   CNEIUS  POMPEIUS  THE 
GREAT,  IMPERATOR  *. 

"  From  your  late  despatches,  I  have,  in  common 
with  the  rest  of  my  countrymen,  derived  inexpressible 
satisfaction  and  delight,  since  you  afford  us  in  these 
such  hopes  of  a  speedy  peace  as,  from  a  confidence 
founded  on  your  singular  abilities,  I  had  always  en- 
couraged others  to  entertain.  Be  assured  of  this, 
however,  that  those  persons  who  having  been  once 
your  enemies,  have  recently  assumed  the  character  of 
your  friends,  are  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  pertur- 
bation and  dejection,  finding  themselves  totally  dis- 


•  Ad  Di versos,  v.  7. 


THE   LIFE  OF  CICERO.  139 

appointed  in  the  sanguine   expectations   they  had 
indulged*.     As  for  the  letter  to  myself,  although  it 
contained  but  few  expressions  of  good-will  towards 
me,  I  was  still  able  to  derive  from  it  no  small  degree 
of  pleasure.     For  in  nothing  am  I  more  delighted 
than  in  the  consciousness  of  having  performed  good 
offices  for  others  ;  to  which,  if  no  suitable  return  of 
gratitude  is  made,   I  am  well  contented  that  the 
surplus  of  obligation  conferred  should  be  on  my  side. 
Of  this  I  entertain  no  doubt,  that  if  my  utmost  efforts 
to  promote  your  advantage  prove  but  a  feeble  bond 
of  friendship  between  us,  the  interests  of  the  republic 
will  be  the  means  of  making  us  intimate  with  each 
other,  and  of  preserving  our  union  when  once  esta- 
blished.    In    order   that   you    may  not   remain   in 
ignorance  as  to  what  I  thought   deficient  in  your 
letter,  I  will  mention  it  at  once  and  without  disguise, 
as  the  frankness  of  my  own  character,  and  my  friend- 
ship with  yourself,  appear  to  dcmiand.     I  have  done 
that  on  which  I  thought  I  had  some  reason  to  expect 
your  congratulations,  both  on  the  ground  of  our  close 
acquaintance,  and  of  your  regard  for  the  interests  of 
the  republic  ;  these  however  you  have  totally  omitted, 
fearing,  as  I  suppose,  that  you  might  give  offence  to 
some  one  by  any  allusion  to  the  subject.    Yet,  know 
that  the  actions  we  have  performed  for  the  pre- 
servation of  our  country  have  been  approved  and 
admired  by  the  whole  world,  and  have  been,  more- 
over, so  far  distinguished  for  prudence  and  greatness 

•  Reference  has  been  supposed  by  some  commentators  to  be 
made  in  this  obscure  passage  to  I-ucullus,  who  might  naturally  be 
expected  to  feel  some  jealousy  at  the  success  of  Pompey  in  a  com- 
mand of  which  he  himself  had  been  deprived.  Others  imagine, 
and  with  greater  appearance  .of  reason,  lh;it  Cjesar  is  alluded  to, 
who,  although  he  had  recently  affected  a  willingness  to  forward  the 
interests  of  Pompey,  contemplated  with  real  dissatisfaction  the  in- 
crease of  dignity  and  reputation  likely  to  accrue  to  him  from  his 
subversion  of  the  power  of  Mitbridates. 


140 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


of  mind,  that  on  your  return  you  will  not  object, 
although  far  greater  than  Africanus,  to  be  joined 
both  in  public  duties  and  private  friendship  with 
one  not,  I  trust,  much  inferior  to  Laeliua  *. — Fare- 
well/' 

The  letter  of  Cicero  to  Pompey  is  not  the  only 
one  for  which  subsequent  ages  have  been  indebted  to 
the  intrigues  of  Metellus.  There  is  extant  an  angry 
epistle  from  his-  brother  Metellus  Celer,  then  go- 
vernor of  Cisalpine  Gdul,  complaining  to  Cicero  of 
public  ridicule,  which  he  accuses  him  of  having 
thrown  upon  himself,  as  well  as  of  severity  towards 
his  relatives ;  and  impugning  the  equity  of  the  Senate 
in  some  of  their  late  proceedings  t.  The  answer, 
which  has  also  been  fortunately  preserved,  is  a  manly 
vindication  from  these  charges,  and  a  dignified  account 
of  the  provocation  given  at  different  times  by  the 
tribune,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  had  been 
met.  It  appears  to  have  been  satisfactory,  and 
to  have  entirely  restored  the  friendship,  which  had 
suffered  a  partial  interruption. 

After  being  the  principal  agent  in  the  detection  and 
punishment  of  the  most  active  among  those  concerned 
in  the  attempts  of  Catiline,  Cicero  now  took  upon  him- 
self the  office  of  defending  one  who  was  in  imminent 
danger  of  being  condemned  as  a  subordinate  member 
of  the  conspiracy.  Servius  Cornelius  Sylla,  a  nephew 
of  the  famous  dictator,  whose  guilt  as  one  of  the 
principal  directors  of  the  late  plot  was  sufficiently 
evident,  had  been  sentenced  to  banishment  for  the 
part  he  had  taken  in  that  transaction.  His  brother 
Publius,  formerly  consul  elect  with  Autronius,  but 
who  had  been  hindered,  as  has  been  before  mentioned, 

*  The  faraous  friend  of  Scipio  Afiicanus. 

+  It  had  been  proposed  to  deprive  Metellus  Nepos  of  his  tribu- 
nitial  office,  and  the  motion  would  have  been  carried  but  for  tho 
interference  of  Cato. 


THE   LIFE   OF*  CICERO. 


141 


from  entering  upon  office  by  a  prosecution  for  bribery, 
was  shortly  after  impeached  by  Lucius  Torquatus,  a 
son  of  the   consul  of  that  name,   on  two  separate 
grounds  of  indictment — the  first,  an  alleged  partici- 
pation in  the  design  of  Autronius  to  assassinate  his 
father;    the  second,  the  share  he  was  supposed  to 
have   taken   in  the  more  dangerous  and  extensive 
scheme  projected  by  Catiline.     His  vindication  from 
the  former  impeachment  was  undertaken  by  Horten- 
sius,  who  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  verdict  in  his 
favour.     Cicero  then  stood  forward  as  his  advocate 
on  the  next  count,  and  delivered  in  his  behalf  the 
somewhat  lengthened  and  diffuse  oration,  which  is 
well  known  to  all  students  of  his  writings.     Tor-, 
quatus,  it  appears,  had  endeavoured  in  his  accusation, 
to  lessen  the  impression  which  the  circumstance  of 
so  redoubted  an  antagonist  having  undertaken  the 
cause  of  Sylla  might  be  supposed  to  make,  by  insinu- 
ations and  open  personalities  against  Cicero,  whom 
he  designated  by  the  title  of  despot  and  king— -names, 
in  the  estimation  of  the  times,  the  most  odious  he 
could  bestow,  and  of  which  he  was  well  aware  what 
would  probably  be  the  effect  in  Roman  ears.     His 
opponent,  however,  was  not  slow  in  seizing  the  oppor- 
tunity thus  afforded,  of  making  his  own  actions  a 
principal   subject   of  his  discourse,   on  pretence   of 
defending  himself  against  the  unjust  attack  of  Tor- 
quatus, and  we  have  consequently  all  the  imagery 
which  had  told  so  well  in  his  denunciations  against 
Catiline,— of  a  blazing  city,  reeking  with  the  blood  of 
its  inhabitants, — the  terrors  of  virgins  and  matrons, — 
the  unsheathed  weapons  of  remorseless  murderers, — 
and   the   pillage  and    profanation    of   temples   and 
shrines*,    reproduced   with     evident    complacency. 
Yet  he  clears  himself  with  happy  ingenuity  of  thought 
and  language  from  the  charge  of  cruelty  which  had 
lately  been  brought  against  him.     ''  Why,"  he  asks, 

*  Pro  Sulla,  vi. 


\ 


142 


THE   LIFE   OV   CICERO. 


"  should  it  excite  your  wonder,  that  in  this  cause  I 
appear  for  the  defendant  in  conjunction  with  those 
advocates,  in  common  with  whom  I  refused  to  under- 
take the    cause   of  the   other  conspirators,    unless, 
indeed,  you  are  determined  to  suppose  me  stern  and 
inhuman  above  all  others,  and  imbued  with  a  singular 
spirit  of  fierceness  and  cruelty.     If  on  account  of  my 
late  actions  you  are  inclined  to  think  my  whole  life 
characterised  by  these  qualities,  great,  Torquatus,  is 
your  error.     Nature  endued  me  at  birth  with  a  dis- 
position inclined  to  mercy ;  by  my  country's  voice  I 
have  been  called  upon  to  exercise  severity ;  but  that 
I  should  be  cruel  was  in  accordance  with  the  designs 
neither  of  nature  nor  of  my  country.     My  own  incli- 
nation and  will  have  now  taken  from  me  even  that 
external  mask  of  sternness  and  vehemence  which  the 
republic,  during  the  late  perilous  crisis,  required  mo 
to  assume.     The  latter  exacted  rigour  on  my  part 
for  a  moment ;    the  former  ordained  that  pity  and 
gentleness  should  be  the  ruling  motives  of  my  general 
conduct*."     Nor  was  his  refutation  of  the  assertion 
that  he  was  assuming  the  prerogatives  of  monarchy, 
less  effectual.     "  If,"  he  asks,  "  after  the  benefits  I 
have  conferred  upon  the  state,  I  demanded  no  other 
reward  for  my  exertions  from  the  Roman  Senate  and 
people,  but  an  honourable  rest  and  retirement,  who 
would  be  unwilling  to  grant  it  ?     And  in  this  case, 
what  attraction  could  their   offices  of  honour  and 
power — their  provinces — their  triumphs— and  their 
other  means  of  distinction  and  glory — possess  for  me, 
while  enjoying  the  higher  privilege  of  contemplating, 
in  a  state  of  quiet  and  tranquillity,  a  city  preserved 
by  my  efforts   from    destruction?    But  what   if   I 
demand  not  even  this— if  the  industry  and  solicitude 
on  their  behalf,  for  which  I  have  always  been  dis- 
tinguished ;  if  my  services,  my  exertions,  my  nights 
of  watchfulness,  are  still   at  the   command  of  my 

•  Fi-o  Sulla,  cap.  iii.  -. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


14S 


friends,  and  readily  offered  to  all ;  if  neither  my 
acquaintance  have  to  regret  the  loss  of  my  assistance 
in  the  Forum,  nor  my  country  that  of  my  counsels 
in  the  senate-house ;  if  my  good  wishes  as  well  as 
my  best  efforts,  my  mind  and  ears  as  well  as  my 
house,  are  free  to  every  applicant ;  if  not  a  moment  of 
leisure  is  left  me  even  for  recalling  to  mind  and 
meditating  upon  what  I  have  accomplished  for  the 
general  safety— js  such  a  condition,  in  which  I  cannot 
find  a  single  person  willing  to  act  as  my  substitute, 
to  be  termed  kingly  authority  ?  Far  from  me,  after 
this,  must  be  the  remotest  suspicion  of  affecting  abso- 
lute power." 

Through  the  able  pleadings  of  his  advocates,  Publius 
Sylla*,  although  his  innocence  could  scarcely  be  con- 
sidered as  thoroughly  proved,  escaped  the  sentence  of 
banishment  passed  upon  his  brother,  as  well  as  upon 
Autronius,  Lseca,  and  the  other  less  fortunate  mena- 
bers  of  the  conspiracy.  A  circumstance  is  related  in 
connexion  with  his  trial  which,  if  true,  reflects  no 
small  dishonour  upon  Cicero.  Hitherto  the  orator, 
with  a  noble  disinterestedness,  had  refused  every 
offer  of  fee  or  reward  for  his  services  in  the  Forum. 
He  was  now,  however,  with  the  intention  of  relin- 
quishing the  family  mansion,  in  which  he  had 
hitherto  resided,  in  favour  of  his  brother  Quintus, 
in  treaty  for  a  house  close  to  his  own  on  the  Palatine 
Hill,  which  had  been  built  in  a  costly  and  magnificent 
style  for  the  tribune  LiviusDrusus  t.  This  edifice  was 


*  Sallust,  writing  fonie  years  after,  ranks  biin  among  the  con- 
spirators who  assembled  at  the  house  of  M.  Porcius  LsBca,  at  tho 
very  commencement  of  the  plot. — Sallust.  Bill.  Cat.  cap.  xvii. 

t  Marcus  Livius  Drusns,  tribune  of  the  people,  was  one  of  the 
most  active  promoters  of  the  claims  of  the  Italian  states,  in  their 
famous  attempt  to  gain  the  privilege  of  Roman  citizens.  With 
respect  to  the  house  in  question,  he  is  said  to  have  replied  to  the 
architect,  who  promised  to  build  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to  secure 
the  greatestjprivacy  to  ita  occupant — "  lliUUer  construct  it  so  that  the 


144  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

one  of  tlie  most  conspicuous  in  the  whole  city,  look- 
ing down  upon  the  Forum,  and  adjoining  the  portico 
which  Catulus,  the  colleague  of  Marius,  had  built 
from  the  spoils  acquired  in  the  Cimbric  war.  Marcus 
Crassus,  to  whom  it  belonged,  demanded  for  it  the 
enormous  sum  of  thirty -five  hundred  thousand  ses- 
terces, or  nearly  thirty  thousand  pounds;  and  although 
Cicero  was  bent  upon  the  purchase,  his  correspon- 
dence shows  that  he  was  reduced  to  great  difficulties 
to  procure  the  necessary  funds*.  In  his  perplexity 
lie  is  said  to  have  applied  to  P.  Sylla,  and  to  have 
received  a  considerable  loan  from  him  on  condition  of 
appearing  in  his  defence  on  his  approaching  trial.  It  ' 
is  added,  that  when  publicly  charged  with  having 
borrowed  money  from  a  person  under  impeachment, 
for  the  purpose  of  securing  the  residence  in  question 
to  himself,  he  strenuously  denied  both  the  receipt  of 
the  loan  and  his  intention  of  making  any  offer  for 
the  house ;  and  that  being  afterwards  accused  in  the 
senate  for  his  duplicity  when  he  had  actually  concluded 
the  bargain,  he  endeavoured  to  turn  the  whole 
matter  into  a  jest,  by  laughingly  asserting,  that  those 
must  be  indeed  persons  of  weak  understanding  who 
could  imagine  that  it  would  be  the  part  of  a  prudent 
or  cautious  man,  when  he  had  resolved  upon  eff*ect- 

whole  world  may  witness  my  most  private  actions.*'  After  a  warm 
debate  in  the  senate,  from  which  he  returned  encircled  by  an 
immense  multitude,  ho  was  stabbed  as  he  crossed  his  own  threshold 
by  an  assassin,  who  left  the  knife  with  which  he  had  inflicted  the  fatal 
wound  in  his  side.  Cicero  asserts  that  the  name  of  the  murderer 
was  Quintus  Varius.  This  event,  which,  in  fact,  was  the  signal  for 
the  Social  War,  occurred  a.  v.c.  663. 

•  In  his  epistle  to  Sextius  (Ad  Divers,  v.  7,)  he  intimates  that  he 
has  been  obliged  to  borrow  the  money  at  six  per  cent.,  and  has 
considerably  involved  himself  in  consequence.  His  pressing 
demand8uponAntonius,mentioned  Ad  Attic,  i.  12,  in  which  he  satir- 
ises his  former  colleague  under  the  title  of  the  Trojan  Lady,  and 
complains  bitterly  of  his  evasive  answers,  probably  originated  in  his 
nccessitiess  on  thi  occasion. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  145 

ing  a  purchase,  to  raise  competitors  for  it  by  openly 
publishing  his  intentions*. 

The  oration  for  Sylla  preceded  but  by  a  short  tinae 
an  event  which,  however  trivial  it  might  appear  in 
its  nature,  drew  upon  it  the  general  attention  of  the 
people  of  Rome,  and  was  not  without  producing 
important  effects  upon  the  lives  of  two  of  its  most 
distinguished  citizens.  Publius  Clodius,  a  patrician 
of  the  noble  house  of  the  Claudii,  which  for  a  long 
series  of  generations  was  noted  for  the  unamiable 
qualities  of  its  meraberst,  was  a  young  man  of 
considerable  abilities  and  eloquence,  and  endued  with 
most  of  the  external  qualities  requisite  to  ensure  an 
extensive  popularity  among  the  less  temperate  and 
judicious  classes  of  the  republic.  But  these  per- 
sonal advantages  were  disgraced  by  the  most  aban- 
doned recklessness  of  all  principle,  an  audacious 
libertinism,  unsurpassed  by  that  of  the  worst  cha- 
racters   who   had  hitherto  disgraced  the  annals  of 

•  aKpivovorrrot,  inquit,  homines  estis,  quum  ignoratis  prudentis 
et  cauti  patris  familias  esse  quod  emere  velit  emturum  sese  ncgare 

propter  conipetitores AulusGellius,  Nodes  Attica ^  lib.  xii.  12. 

Dr.  Middlcton  doubts  the  truth  of  the  story,  winch  he  thinks  must 
have  been  obtained  from  some  spurious  collection  of  the  facetious 
sayings  of  Cicero,  and  certainly  the  character  of  Aulus  Gellius,  as 
an  accurate  narrator  of  facts,  does  not  go  far  to  establish  its  credit. 
Melmoth,  however,  in  his  translation  of  Cicero's  letters,  observes, 
without  prejudice  and  with  justice  :  "  As  every  reader  of  taste  and 
learning  must  wish  well  to  the  moral  character  of  so  invaluable  a 
writer  as  Cicero,  one  cannot  but  regret  that  neither  his  own  general 
regard  to  truth,  nor  the  plea  of  his  ingenious  advocate,  seems 
sufficient  to  discredit  this  piece  of  secret  history." 

f  Sueton.  in  Tiber,  i.— who,  not  to  mention  the  Claudian 
line  of  the  Ctesars,  cites  the  names  of  the  licentious  decemvir,  of 
Claudius  Drusus,  and  Claudius  Pulcher,  the  unsuccessful  com- 
mander of  the  Roman  fleet.  The  wish  of  the  sister  of  the  latter, 
that  her  brother  was  alive  to  lose  anolher  battle,  when  her  litter 
was  impeded  by  the  multitude  of  Rome,  is  well  kno^vn.  Tacitus 
also,  (Annal.i.4,)  speaks  of  the  '«vetu8  atque  insita  Claudia  familw 
superbia." 


146  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

Rome,  and  a  selfishness  and  low  cunning  which,  for 
the  most  part,  efi"ectually  hindered  their  possessor  from 
following  his  vicious  propensities  to  an  extent  suffi- 
cient to  endanger  his  personal  safety,  although  within 
this  limit  no  restraint,  either  in  public  or  in  private, 
was  ever  affected  to  be  placed  upon  their  indulgence. 
Such  a  character,  if  once  engaged  against  them,  was 
likely  to  prove  a  far  more  dangerous  opponent  to  the 
liberties  of  his  country  than  Catiline ;  as  the  assailant 
who  works  his  way  towards  the  object  of  attack  by 
the  covert  process  of  mining,  is  more  to  be  dreaded 
than  the  one  who  at  once  rushes  forward  heedlessly 
to  the  assault.  By  constant  professions  of  devoted- 
ness  to  the  popular  interests  he  had  now  been  raised 
to  the.  office  of  quaestor,  and  in  that  capacity  was,  of 
course,  entitled  to  a  seat  in  the  senate.  To  Cicero 
he  had  long  been  an  especial  object  of  dislike,  not 
only  from  his  general  conduct,  but  from  the  part 
he  had  taken  in  the  impeachment  of  Fabia  Terentia, 
sister-in-law  of  the  orator,  and  one  of  the  vestal 
virgins,  whom  he  had  accused  of  infidelity  to  her 
vows,  and  an  improper  intimacy  with  Catiline. 
Fabia,  on  the  very  verge  of  condemnation  and  its  ter- 
rible consequences,  was  saved,  principally  by  means  of 
Cato,  who,  with  all  his  stern  coldness  and  inflexibility, 
was  never  an  agent,  or  even  an  unconcerned  spectator, 
of  injustice,  although  exercised  towards  an  enemy; 
and  Clodius,  to  avoid  the  odium  raised  against  him 
on  account  of  his  unfounded  accusation,  had  been 
obliged  to  withdraw  for  some  time  from  the  city. 
On  his  return  a  partial  reconciliation  with  Cicero 
was  effected,  and  in  the  suppression  of  the  Catilina- 
rian  conspiracy  he  took  an  active  part  in  supporting 
the  consul,  placing  himself  in  the  ranks  of  the  young 
nobility  who  formed  a  guard  about  his  person.  He, 
at  the  same  time,  was  constant  in  paying  his  court  to 
Caesar,  but  the  future  dictator  had  little  reason  to  be 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


147 


proud  of  the*  connexion,  since  Clodius   studiously 
availed  himself  of  the  opportunities  afforded  by  his 
acquaintance  with  him,  to  endeavour  to  divert  the 
affections  of  his  wife  Pompeia  from  her  husband,  an 
attempt  in  which  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that 
he  was  successful.  It  was  during  the  celebration  of  the 
mysterious  rites  of  the  Bona  Dea  in  the  house  of  Caesar, 
at  which  Pompeia  was  presiding,  and  while  all  wit- 
nesses but  those  of  the  female  sex  were  supposed  to 
have  withdrawn  from  the  spot,   in  compliance  with 
the  established  custom,  that  Clodius,  having  received 
a  secret  summons  to  take  advantage  of  the  occasion 
to  pay  one  of  his  clandestine  visits,  was  discovered 
lurking,  in  the  disguise  of  a  female  musician,  within 
the  forbidden  precincts    by  one  of  the  maid-servants 
of  Aurelia,  the  mother  of  Caesar,  who  immediately 
gave  notice  of  this  daring  intrusion  on  the  solemni- 
ties of  the  night.     A  cry  of  horror  and  indignation 
was  raised  by  all  the  assembled  matrons  at  the  intel- 
ligence ;  the  religious  symbols   were   at  once   con- 
cealed ;  and  Clodius  was  forcibly  expelled  from  the 
house  with  every  expression  of  disgust  and  indigna- 
tion.    The  whole  city  was  speedily  acquainted  with 
what,  in  the  estimation  of  most  of  its  inhabitants,  was 
an  atrocious  and  unpardonable  act  of  sacrilege,  and  in- 
sisted loudly  upon  its  punishment.    The  senator  Cor- 
nificius  accordingly  made  a  motion,  that  the  matter 
should  be  referred  to  the  pontifical  college  for  their 
decision,  as  to  whether  it  was  of  sufficient  importance 
to  be  the  subject  of  a  bill  to  be  submitted  to  the  people, 
ordaining  that  Clodius  should  be  brought  to  his  trial, 
before  a  general  assembly  of  the  citizens.     On  their 
unanimous  answer  in  the  affirmative,  the  consul  Mar- 
cus Piso,  much  against  his  inclination*,  was  ordered 
to  bring  forward  the  information  and  the  proposed 
edict  in  the  usual  form .     But  the  decree  was  strongly 


•  Ad  Attic,  i.  IcJ. 

l2 


143  THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 

opposed  by  the  tribune Fufius  Calcnu8,-whom  Clodius 
had  attached  to  his  party,  and  on  the  day  ap- 
pointed for  the  assembly,  the  enclosed  spaces  in 
which  the  centuries  gave  their  votes  were  surrounded 
by  a  number  of  his  partisans,  including  several  of  the 
former  favourei-s  of  Catiline,  encouraged  by  the  con- 
sul Piso  and  headed  by  Caius  Curio,  afterwards  well 
known  for  his  zeal  in  the  cause  of  Caesar,  a  volup- 
tuary of  notorious  character  and  a  bosom  friend  of 
the  accused.  By  their  means  it  was  contrived,  that 
only  such  tablets  should  be  presented  to  the  peo- 
ple as  were  inscribed  with  negative  characters*.  It 
consequently  appeared  that  the  decision  of  the 
meeting  was  against  the  law,  and  Fufius,  who  had  en- 
deavoured to  substitute  a  trial  before  the  praetors,  and 
chosen  judges  whom  it  would  not  be  impossible  to 
bribe,  or  to  overawe,  for  one  before  a  general  conven- 
tion of  citizens,  imagined  tliat  he  should  now  be  able 
to  carry  his  point.  Cato,  however,  seconded  by  Hor- 
tensius,  Favonius,  and  several  of  the  nobility,  after 
indulffinff  in  a  severe  harangue  aj^ainst  Piso  for  his 
unfair  practices,  put  an  end  by  his  interference  to  the 
proceedings  of  the  day.  The  senate  firmly  adhered  to 
their  first  resolution,  and  all  things  seemed  to  promise 
a  struggle  of  no  orainary  violence  and  of  some  continu- 
ance between  the  Clodian  faction  and  their  opponents. 
In  the  midst  of  these  disputes,  Pompey  having  re- 
turned with  his  victorious  army  from  Asia,  landed  at 
Brundusiuni.       His   first   proceedings    on    reaching 

*  Tabulfieadminislrabantnrita  ntnulladureiur  **  Tti  rogas." — Ad 
Attic* i.  14.  The  Roman  citizens,  when  called  upon  to  deliver  their 
▼otes  upon  any  subject  lai<l  before  them,  passed  by  centuries  into 
ceitain  indosuies,  called  omVia  ov  septa,  over  bridges  '^  pontes ^'^  at 
the  end  of  which  each  person  was  presented  with  two  tablets,  the  one 
inscribed  with  the  initial  letters  of  the  words  Uti  rogas,^''  Beit  as  you 
will,"  the  other  with  the  letter  A  for  Antiqu(\  or  ''  I  am  opposed  to 
any  innovation,"  One  of  these  was  thrown  by  each  voter  into  the 
lAsta  or  chest  placed  to  receive  it,  and  the  majority  of  tablets  for  or 
against  the  measure  were  taken  as  the  opinion  of  the  wholecentury. 
—See  Adam's  Roman  Antiquities,  8vo.,  p.  85. 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


149 


Italy  were  watched  with  considerable   anxiety,  since 
it  was  suspected  that  he  would    immediately  march 
with  his  whole  force  upon  Rome,  where  the  posture 
of  affairs  was  such   that  he  would  have  had  but  little 
difficulty  in  raising  himself,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
redoubted  veterans  who  followed   his  standards,  to 
absolute  power,  if  such  had  been  his  intention.     It  is 
questionable,    however,  with   all    his  ambition  and 
selfishness,  his  love  of  authority,  and  jealousy  of  its 
exercise  by  others,  whether  despotic  dominion,  at  the 
expense  of  the  ruin  of  the  constitution,  was  ever  the 
subject  of  his  thoughts.        From  whatever  motive, 
the  liberties  of  his  country,  although  laid  defenceless 
in  his  path,  were  for  this  time  spared.     His  troops 
were  no  sooner  disembarked,  than  they  were  ordered 
to  disperse,  and  wait  at  their  respective  homes  his 
orders   for  reassembling  under  the  walls  of  Rome  to 
adorn  the  triumph  of  which  he  was  in  expectation. 
He  himself,  with  but  the  ordinary  retinue  of  a  pro- 
consul, pursued  his  way  leisurely  to  the  capital,  in 
the  suburbs  of  which  he  took  up  his  quarters,   until 
the  senate  should  have  come  to  a  detennination  with 
respect    to   the  honours  he  was   soliciting.       The 
public  were  not  slow  in  testifying  their  sense  of  his 
moderation ;  but  the  unanimity  of  all  ranks  in  lavish- 
ing every  expression  of  adulation  upon  him,  was  not 
solely  to  be  ascribed  to  their  appreciation  of  the  for- 
bearance he  had  exhibited,  since,  amidst  the  factions 
into  which  the  state  was  beginning  every  day  more 
distinctly  to   break   up,  the  partisans  of  each  were 
anxious  to  secure  the  support  of  so  able  a  patron. 
By  a  refined  flattery,  the  meetings  of  the  senate  and 
assemblies  of  the  people  were  frequently,  to  do  him 
honour,  held  at  this  time  without  the  walls,  and  the 
Flaminian  circus*  was  ordinarily  the  spot  selected  for 
the  latter  purpose.     It   was  in  this  building  that  the 

♦  In  the  eighth  region  of  the  city,  and  near  the  Campus  Martins. 


150  THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

scene  took  place  which  has  been  described  by  Cicero 
with  so  much  amusing  self-complacency,  and  which 
forms  the  subject  of  his  fourteenth  epistle  to  Atticus. 
"  I  fear,"  he  writes,  "  it  would  look  like  affectation* 
on  my  part  to  inform  you  of  the  muUiplicity  of  my  pre- 
sent engagements,  yet  my  attention  has  been  latterly 
so  distracted,  as  scarcely  to  allow  me  leisure  even  for 
this  short  epistle.  The  time  I  devote  to  it  has,  in 
fact,  been  snatched  from  affairs  of  the  greatest  mo- 
ment. Of  the  nature  of  Pompey's  first  address,  I 
have  already  informed  you: — an  oration  without 
comfort  to  the  wretched — without  weight  to  the 
wicked — unpleasant  to  the  great — undignified  in  the 
estimation  of  the  good  ;  so  cold  and  insipid  was  its 
character.  Immediately  after  it,  Fufius,  that  most 
frivolous  tribune  of  the  people,  at  the  instigation  of 
the  consul,  introduced  Pompey  to  the  assembly.  This 
took  place  in  the  Flaminian  circus,  which,  as  it  hap- 
pened to  be  a  market  day  t,  was  crowded  to  excess. 
The  first  question  proposed  to  him  was,  whether  he 
was  of  opinion  that  the  judges  should  be  appointed 
by  the  praetor,  and  by  whose  counsel  the  said  praetor 
was  to  be  directed.  This  was  meant  of  the  sacrilege 
of  Clodius,  which  had  been  appointed  to  be  tried  by 
the  senate.  Pompey  in  reply  made  a  speech  of  the 
most  aristocratic  tendency,  answering,  and  at  some 
length,  that  the  authority  of  the  senate  appeared  to 
him,  as  it  had  ever  done,  on  all  points  of  the  greatest 

*  Vereor  ne  putidum  sit.     The  very  happy  rendering  of  Melmoth. 

•f  "  Erat  in  eo  ipso  loco  imndinarum  rravfiyvpis.'^  In  more 
ancient  times,  not  only  were  assemblies  of  the  people  forbidden  to 
be  held  on  the  niindiiKB  or  market  days,  but  the  courts  of  justice 
also  strictly  closed.  By  the  Hortcnsian  law  it  was  afterwards 
enacted  that  the  pi-jetors  should  continue  to  sit  on  these  days,  that 
justice  might  be  more  conveniently  rendered  to  the  country  people 
who,  on  such  occasions,  came  with  their  produce  in  great  numbers  to 
Rome.  This  innovation  having  been  made,  the  regulation  re- 
specting assemblies  of  the  people  was  less  strictly  attended  to. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


151 


possible  weight  and  importance.      He  was  subse- 
quently asked  by  the  consul  Messala  in  full  senate, 
what  he  thought  of  the  sacrilege  and  the  bill  which 
had  been  promulgated  upon  that  subject.  His  answer 
was  a  general  eulogy  upon  all  the  late  proceedings 
of  the  senators  ;  and  as  he  sat  down  at  its  conclusion, 
he  observed  to  me  that,  in  his  own  opinion,  he  had 
now  satisfactorily  replied  in  relation  to  these  matters. 
Crassus  observing  that  the  applause  which  followed 
was  given  to  Pompey  on  the  supposition  that  the 
approbation  he  had  expressed  was  meant  to  apply  to 
my  consulate,  then  rose,  and  in  the  most  honourable 
terms  commented  upon  my  conduct  in  that  office, 
even  going  so  far  as  to  say,  that  it  was  owing  to  me 
that   he  was  still   a  senator  and    citizen;    that  he 
owed  both  life  and  liberty  to  my  exertions  ;  and  that 
as  often  as  he  beheld  his  wife,  his  home,  and  his 
country,   he  was  presented   with   evidences  of  his 
obligations  towards  me.     Not  to  dwell  upon  this 
subject,  the  whole  of  that  scene  of  fire  and  bloodshed 
which  I  have  been  accustomed  in  different  ways  to 
describe  (and  you  well  know  my  style  of  colouring*) 
in  those  orations  of  which  you  are  the  supreme  An s- 
tarchus,  he  drew  with  the  utmost  force  and  dignity 
of  expression.     I  was  sitting  next  to  Pompey,  and 
plainly  saw  that  he  was  moved  by  what  had  been 
said,  either  because  he  saw  that  Crassus  thought  it 
worth  while  to  cultivate  a  friendship  which  he  him- 
self had  neglected,  or  that  my  actions  had  been  such 
as  to  render  the  senate  willing  auditors  of  my  praises: 
—praises  too,  be  it  observed,  from  a  person  who  was 
under  the  less  obligation  to  me,  inasmuch  as  he  him- 
self had  hitherto  been  generally  treated  with  slight 
amidst  my  commendations  of  his  rival.     This  day  has 
placed  me  on  the  most  amicable  terms  with  Crassus. 

*  In  the   original  X-nK^dovs,   the   smaU  vases  in  which  artists 
were  accustomed  to  keep  their  colours. 


l! 


152 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


From  Pompey,  moreover,  I  pretended  willingly  to 
receive  the  compliments  which  he  openly  paid  me, 
whatever  might  have  bt^en  his  secret  sentiments. 
But  as  for  myself,  ye  Gods !  in  what  a  manner  did 
I  display  my  powers  before  my  new  auditor.  If 
ever  harmonious  periods — well  turned  expressions — 
profound  conception  and  skilful  arrangement  have 
suggested  themselves  to  me,  it  was  on  this  occasion ; 
in  a  word,  I  drew  forth  shouts  of  applause.  Tliis 
was  the  argument  of  my  discourse  : — the-,  dignified 
conduct  of  the  senate — the  unanimity  of  the  eques- 
trian order — the  general  tranquillity  of  Italy — the 
extinction  of  the  remains  of  the  conspiracy — the  ease 
and  plenty  now  enjoyed.  You  know  with  what 
pomp  of  language  I  am  accustomed  to  treat  these 
topics.  I  need  say  no  more,  as  the  clamorous 
approbation  I  excited  must,  ere  this,  have  reached 
your  ears  *." 

The  senate  continued  for  some  time  still  occupied 
by  the  consideration  of  the  sacrilege  of  Clodius,  which 
they  were  fully  resolved,  notwithstanding  all  oppo- 
sition from  without,  to  make  the  subject  of  a  trial 
before  the  people.  On  a  fresh  motion  being  made 
upon  the  subject,  although  Clodius  had  recourse  to 
the  most  abject  supplications  to  prevent  it,  it  was 
determined  by  a  majority,  nearly  in  the  proportion  of 
four  hundred  to  sixteen,  that  no  business  should  be 
entered  upon  until  the  necessary  bill  should  be  passed. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  accused,  assisted  by  Curio, 
used  every  means  to  excite  the  sympathy  of  his 
faction,  by  frequent  harangues  against  the  severity  of 
the  senators.  The  favourers  of  both  parties,  from 
angry  words  and  threats,  were  proceeding  to  more 

*  Ad  Attic,  l.xiv.  Atticus,  who  had  been  in  Rome duringCicero's 
consulate,  returned  to  Greece  immediately  after  its  conclusion. 
The  letter  of  Cicero,  recommending  him  to  Autonius,  at  this  time 
proconsul  of  Macedonia,  is  still  preserved. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


158 


I 


palpable  demonstrations  of  violence,  when  Hortensius, 
fearful  of  the  consequences,   interfered  with  all  his 
influence  to  obtain  the  middle  expedient  of  a  trial 
before  the  praitor.    The  guilt  of  Clodius  was  so  notori- 
ous, that  it  seemed  indifferent  what  means  were  taken 
to  bring  about  his  condemnation,  and  it  was  openly 
stated,  in  the  proverbial  form  of  expression  then  com- 
monly in  use,  that  even  a  leaden  sword  would  be  suf- 
ficient to  destroy  him*.    His  adversaries,  however, 
were  not  fortunate  in  their  anticipations.    No  sooner 
were  the  judges  appointed,  than  they  were  assailed  by 
bribery  of  the  most  open  description,  and  in  a  shape 
sufficiently  manifesting  the  prevalence  of  general  de- 
moralisation to  a  most  astonishing  extent,  if  they 
have  not  been  calumniated  by  Cicero.     The  evidence, 
moreover,  at  the  trial  itself,  was  far  more  favourable 
than  had  been  anticipated,  since  Caesar,  who  was  ex- 
pected to  prove  the  most  formidable  witness  on  the 
side  of  the  prosecution,  appeared  the  least  willing  to 
make  any  representation  which  might  lead  to  a  con- 
viction.    Immediately  after  the  occurrence  on  which 
the  indictment  was  founded,,  he  had,  indeed,  sent  a 
bill  of  divorce  to  his  wife,  but  when  called  upon  to 
give  his  open  testimony  in  the  cause,  he  replied,  to 
the  utter  astonishment  of  all  present,  that  he  was 
not  conscious  of  having  sustained  any  injury  at  the 
hands  of  Clodius.     On  being  asked  why,  if  such 
were  the  case,  he  had  formally  divorced  Pompeia,  he 
made  the  well  known  reply,  that  the  fair  fame  of  the 
wife  of  Cffisar  should  not  only  be  unsullied  by  actual 
guilt,  but  uninjured  by  the  slightest  shade  of  sus- 
picion.    The  answer  had  little  to  recommend  it  to 
admiration.    Clodius,  with  a  numerous  and  audacious 
faction  at  his  back,  was  too  useful  an  instrument  in 
furthering  his  aspiring  projects,  not  to  be  propitiated 
at  any  expense ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 

~  *  Ad  Attic,  i.  16. 


154 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


155 


feeling  of  injury  on  the  part  of  the  dishonoured  hus- 
band was,  on  this  occasion,  readily  sacrificed  to  the 
absorbing  principle  of  ambition.  Cicero  was  more 
honest  in  his  evidence,  although  to  the  detriment  of 
his  own  interests.  Clodius  had  confidently  relied 
upon  being  able  to  establish  an  alibi,  and  produced 
witnesses  who,  notwithstanding  the  testimony  both 
of  Aurelia  and  of  Julia,  the  sister  of  Caesar,  as  to  his 
presence  at  the  mysteries,  confidently  swore  that  he 
was  on  that  day  at  Interamna  *.  This  daring  per- 
jurj^  however,  if  it  could  have  been  believed  for  a 
moment,  was  rendered  unavailing  by  the  counter 
testimony  of  Cicero,  who  made  oath  in  his  turn,  that 
Clodius  had,  on  the  morning  of  the  day  in  question, 
paid  him  a  visit  in  his  house  on  the  Palatine  Hill. 
The  process,  notwithstanding,  terminated  in  favour 
of  the  accused,  since,  of  the  fifty-six  judges,  twenty- 
five  alone  haxl  the  honesty  to  give  sentence  against 
him.  The  rest  presented  their  tablets  inscribed  with 
the  character  of  acquittal  t.  Fully  conscious,  how- 
ever, of  the  danger  into  which  he  had  been  brought 
by  the  unbiassed  evidence  given  in  the  cause  by 
Cicero,  Clodius  left  the  court  with  a  feeling  of  mortal 
hatred  against  him,  which  from  that  hour  to  the  day 
of  his  own  death  was  unremoved,  and  immediately 

•  About  eighty  miles  from  the  city. 

"f  In  accordance  with  the  general  principle  recognised  at  Rome  as 
well  as  Athens,  of  passing  judgment  by  ballot,  each  of  the  "  Judices" 
was  supplied  before  the  trial  with  three  tablets  severally  inscribed 
with  the  lettei-8  A,  C,  and  NL,  for  Absolvo,  "  I  acquit,"  Con- 
demnOy  "  I  condemn,"  and  Non  liquety  "  There  is  not  sufficient 
evidence."  One  of  these,  in  the  same  manner  as  at  elections,  or 
the  passing  of  laws  by  the  people,  was  thrown  by  the  "Judices"  into  a 
box  or  um,  and  the  prajtor  on  ascertaining,  by  counting  them  over, 
the  preponderance  of  favourable  or  unfavourable  opinions,  was 
enabled  to  give  judgment  accordingly.  Plutarch  states  that  at  the 
trial  of  Clodius,  the  "Judices"  erased  the  letters  on  their  tablets ;  an 
expedient  which  was  sometimes  adopted  when  there  was  a  hazard 
of  offending  one  of  two  powerful  parties. 


1 


commenced  the  series  of  persecutions  against  him,  the 
eflPects  of  which  were  severely  felt  before  long*by  the 
object  of  their  unwearied  exercise.  In  every  assem- 
bly of  the  people  he  took  means  to  display  the 
conduct  of  the  late  consul,  in  his  suppression  of  the 
conspiracy  of  Catiline,  in  the  worst  light,  and  frequent 
verbal  encounters  seem  to  have  taken  place  upon  the 
subject  *  between  Cicero  and  his  malicious  detractor, 
whose  attacks  in  the  senate  w^ere  answered  by  a 
powerful  oration  against  his  own  character  and  that 
of  Curio,  which  is  lost  f,  and  certain  witticisms,  not 
remarkable  for  their  point  or  polish,  which  Cicero 
in  his  correspondence  has  preserved.  These,  if  their 
merit  in  other  respects  is  not  so  obvious,  afford, 
at  least,  a  curious  evidence  of  the  extent  to  which 
personalities  were  allowed  Jimong  those  whom  ima- 
gination, and  sometimes  history,  is  accustomed  to 
picture  as  the  dignified  and  majestic  counsellors 
presiding  over  the  destinies  of  Rome. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  consulate  of  Marcus  Piso 
and  Valerius  Messala,  the  famous  cause  of  Aulus 
Licinius  Archias  was  pleaded  before  Quintus  Cicero  J, 
who  at  that  time  held  the  office  of  praator  at  Rome 
*  previously  to  his  obtaining  the  province  of  Asia, 
where  he  continued  for  the  next  three  years.  Archias 

*  Ad  Attic,  i.  16.  Cum  enim  ille  ad  conciones  fugisset,  &c. 
**  For  when  Clodius  had  recourse  to  his  popular  assemblies,  and 
there  made  a  wicked  use  of  my  name,  immortal  Gods !  what  en- 
counters did  I  sustain  !  What  a  slaughter  did  I  make !  With  what 
fury  did  I  charge  Piso,  Cuiio,  and  that  whole  band  !  How  warmly 
did  I  inveigh  against  the  corruption  of  the  old  and  the  intemperance 
of  the  young.  Often,  indeed,  did  I  wish  for  you,  not  only  as  the 
director  of  my  conduct,  but  as  the  specUtor  of  my  conquests." — 
Melmolh. 

t  A  few  fragments,  with  an  anonymous  commentary,  have  been 
lately  discovered  and  published  by  Angelo  Maio.  The  oration  seems 
to  have  been  replete  with  biting  irony. 

X  This  interesting  fact  has  been  ascertained  by  an  ancient  com- 
mentary upon  the  oration  for  Archias,  which  is  among  the  valuable 
discoveries  effected  by  the  learning  and  industry  of  Maio. 


156  THE    LIFE   OP  CICERO. 

was  a  native  of  Antiocb,  celebrated  for  his  poetical 
talents^  which  had  recommended  him  to  some  of  the 
most  distinguished  families  of  Rome,  and  his  name 
has  already  occurred  in  this  narration  as,  in  earlier 
days,  the  honoured  and  esteemed  instructor  of  Cicero. 
A  few  years  before  the  law  of  the  tribunes  Silvanus 
and  Carbo  had  been  passed  *,   ordaining   that  all 
strangers  enrolled  as  citizens  by  the  confederate  states 
should    be   considered   entitled  to  the  privilege   of 
Romans,   provided  they   possessed  a  habitation   in 
Italy  at  the  time,  and  gave  in  their  claim  to  the 
praetor  within  sixty  days  after  the  date  of  the  edict, 
he  had  obtained,  by  the  patronage  of  LucuUus,  and 
the  general  sense    entertained  of  his  merits  t,   the 
freedom  of  Hefaclea  in  Lucania,  by  virtue  of  which 
he  had  hitherto  passed  as  a  Roman  citizen.    But  the 
public  records  of  the  Heracleans  were  destroyed  in 
the  Social  War,  and,  in  the  deficiency  of  this  evi- 
dence, he  was  accused  under  the  Papian  law,  pro- 
viding  against   the    assumption    of   the   rights   of 
citizenship  by  persons  unduly  qualified.     The  pro- 
secutor Gratius  founded   his  indictment   upon   the 
several  prop'ositions,  that  he  had  never  been  enrolled 
as  a  member  of  their  state  by  the  Heracleans,  or  if 
80,  that  he  had  neither  possessed  a  residence  in  Italy, 
nor  given  in  his  name  within  the  time  appointed  to 
the  praetor.      Cicero,  who    readily  presented    him- 
self as  his  advocate,  bestowing  comparatively  little 
attention  upon  the  refutation  of  the  two  latter  counts, 
devoted  his  principal  efibrts  to  establishing  by  wit- 
nesses from  Heraclea,  as  well  as  by  the  evidence  of 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


157 


•  A.  V.  c.  664. 

t  It  has  been  generally  believed,  that  the  merits  of  Archias  as  a 
poet  were  greatly  exaggerated  both  by  Cicero  and  his  contem- 
poraries in  general.  Yet,  as  this  opinion  is  founded  only  upon  the 
character  of  a  few  epigrams  in  the  Anthology,  the  subject,  to  say 
the  least  of  it,  is  yet  open  to  doubt. 


Lucullus,  the  fact  of  his  having  been  formerly  pre- 
sented with  the  freedom  of  the  place.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  argue,  that  even  if  Archias  was  not  at  the 
time  a  citizen  of  Rome,  he  richly  deserved,  by  his 
genius  and  attainments,  to  be  reckoned  as  one. 

If  we  had  only  been  acquainted  with  the  general 
features  of  this  cause,  and  if  the  pleadings  of  Cicero 
in  connexion  with  it  had  altogether  perished,    ima- 
gination might  have  suggested  the  genius  of  the  ad- 
vocate as  likely  to  have  been  roused  to  no  ordinary 
exertion  of  its  powers,  on  a  subject  sw  much  in  uni- 
son both  with  his  taste  and  feelings.     Nor  would  the 
supposition  have   been  erroneous.     The  oration  for 
the  poet  Archias  is  one  of  the  most  noble  tributes 
ever  paid  to  literature  by  eloquence;  harmonious  and 
seductive,   like  all  other  productions  of  the  accom- 
plished speaker  by  whom  it  was  delivered,  by  the 
singular  grace  of  its  style,  but  possessing,  indepen- 
dently of  these  extrinsic  ornaments,  the  higher  recom- 
mendation of  being  but  an  echo  to  the  true  feelings  of 
the  orator,  and  of  illustrating  a  topic   which  would 
have  given  dignity  to  a  less  imposing,  and  interest 
to  a  far  less  skilfully  arranged   discourse.     Amidst 
the  turmoil  and  bustle  of  the  Forum,  and  before  a 
crowd  of  auditors  for  the  most  part  accustomed  only 
to  the  cramped  arguments  and  conventional  idioms 
of  litigation,  it  must  at  least  have  been  produced  un- 
der the  double  advantages  of  novelty  and  contrast, 
characteristics  which  seldom  fail  of  ensuring  admira- 
tion under  judicious  management ;  and  Cicero  himself, 
whose  literary  fame  will  at  all  times  rival,  if  indeed 
it  is  not  thought  to  surpass,  his  oratorical  reputation, 
seems,  in  th  °midst  of  the  feverish  course  of  ambition 
he  was  now  pursuing,  to  have  seized  with  avidity  the 
opportunity  of  showing  that  his  best   affections  were 
still  fixed  upon  the  inore  calm  delights  afforded  by 
those  studies  which  he  has  so  beautifully  described ; 


158  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

as  tlie  sufferer  in  a  calenture  is  said  to  have  constantly 
before  his  eyes,  the  fresh  pastures  and  cooling  streams, 
from  which  he  is  unavoidably  debarred.  To  make 
mention  of  any  particular  parts  of  this  highly  finished 
and  perfectly  tuned  discourse,  would  bealmosttoreflect 
upon  others  which  are  equally  deserving  of  praise.  Yet 
few  will  be  unwilling  to  recal  to  mind  the  passages  in 
which  he  defends  his  own  attachment  to  pursuits  far 
too  rare  among  many  of  the  eminent  men  of  his  time, 
and  eulogises  the  whole  circle  of  sciences,  affirming 
that  all  are  connected  by  a  common  bond,  with  a  re- 
servation in  favour  of  poetry,  which  he  characterises 
as  a  divine  afflatus,  distinct  in  its  nature  and  unat- 
tainable by  the  ordinary  methods  of  intellectual 
exertion.  "  Rocks  and  deserts,"  continues  the  pleader, 
"  find  an  answer  to  the  human  voice — even  ferocious 
beasts  are  influenced  and  arrested  by  the  sound  of 
song;  and  shall  we,  who  have  been  the  subjects  of  the 
best  instructions,  remain  insensible  to  the  numbers  of 
poets  ?  The  people  of  Colophon  give  out  that  Homer 
was  a  native  of  their  city.  The  Chians  prefer  the  same 
claim — the  Salaminians  appeal  against  both  in  favour 
of  their  own  island — and  those  of  Smyrna  confidently 
point  to  the  temple  erected  to  his  honour,  as  an  evi- 
dence superior  to  all.  IVIany  otlier  cities  are  fiercely 
at  issue  on  this  subject  of  contention.  Can  we,  the 
while  such  disputes  are  raised  respecting  a  foreign 
poet  long  since  dead,  reject  one  yet  living,  and  our 
own  both  by  his  own  inclination  and  the  authority 
of  the  laws  ;  one,  too,  who  has  devoted  all  his  studies 
and  the  full  force  of  his  genius  to  raising  and  ren- 
dering celebrated  the  glory  of  the  Roman  name  ?"* 

*  Pro  Archia,  viii.  ix.  Archias,  as  it  may  be  ascertaiaed  from  the 
following  part  of  this  oration,  imitating  the  example  of  Ennius  and 
other  metrical  annalists,  had  wniten  in  verse  the  iiistorv  of  the  Cim- 
bric  War,  by  which  he  was  recommended  to  the  favour  of  Marius, 
and  subsequently  the  campaigns  of  Lucullus  against  Mithridaies, 
which  ensured  him  another  powerful  patron.      It  seems  to  have  been 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


159 


This  latter  argument  had,  in  all  probability,  a  much 
greater  influence  in  determining  the  question  to  the 
advantage  of  Archias,  than  all  the  evidence  produced 
in  his  favour ;  but  by  whatever  arts  his  eloquence 
was  principally  enforced,  the  orator  had  not  the  mor- 
tification of  finding  it  to  be  ineffectual,  since  it  ap- 
pears that  his  client  was,  for  the  future,  allowed  to 
remain  in  possession  of  the  privileges  to  which  he 
laid  claim,  without  further  opposition. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year  Pompey  enjoyed  his 
third  and  most  splendid  triumph  over  Mithridates, 
the  celebration  of  which  occurred  on  the  twenty- 
ninth  day  of  September.  The  day  appointed,  being 
also  that*  of  his  birth,  was  considered  particularly 
appropriate  for  the  ceremony,  which,  from  its 
magnificence  and  imposing  circumstances  formed, 
for  some  time  before  and  after  its  occurrence,  the 
absorbing  topic  of  conversation  at  Rome.  On  the 
two  former  occasions  he  had  triumphed  over  Europe 
and  Africa.  The  addition  of  Asia  now  constituted 
him,  in  the  eyes  of  his  admirers  the  conqueror  of 
the  whole  world;  although,  with  our  acquaintance 
with  the  immense  regions  which  lay  alike  beyond  his 
knowledge  and  his  grasp,  we  may  be  inclined  to  smile 
at  the  appellation,  and  he  was  consequently  compared 
not  only  to  Alexander,  but  to  the  more  ancient  heroes 
and  divinities  Bacchus  and  Hercules.  As  one  day 
was  found  wholly  insufficient  for  the  pageant,  it  was 
extended  to  the  end  of  the  next,  and  during  the  whole 
of  that  time  the  eyes  of  the  spectators  were  dazzled 
with  successive  exhibitions  of  the  gorgeous  trophies, 

common  indeed  for  all  the  generals  of  that  age  to  be  attended  by  an 
historical  laureate,  the  person  who  fulfilled  the  office  for  Pompey 
being  Theoplianes  of  Mitylene.  Cicero,  apparently  little  imagining 
that  his  own  "writings  would  prove  his  best  monument  in  the  eyes 
of  posterity,  mentions,  that  Archias  had  also  begun  to  celebrate 
his  own  consulship,  and  seems  nervously  anxious  that  the  poem  on 
the  subject  should  be  completed. 


160 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


won  by  the  army  of  the  East,  or  by  the  more  sub- 
stantial riches  which  were  on  the  point  of  being  trans- 
ferred to  the  public  coffers.  The  territory  subdued 
was  with  pompous  brevity  described  in  the  temple 
of  Minerva,  afterwards  built  from  a  part  of  the 
spoils,  as  the  whole  region  situated  between  the 
Maeotic  lake  and  the  Red  sea,  but  in  the  procession 
the  conqueror  condescended  to  enter  more  into  detail, 
describing  himself  as  having  subjected  by  force  of 
arms,  after  his  suppression  of  the  pirates  who  had  in- 
fested the  Mediterranean  sea,  the  countries  of  Asia, 
Pontus,  Armenia,  Paphlagonia,  Cappadocia,  Cilicia, 
Syria,  Scythia,  Judaea,  Albania,  Iberia,  the  island  of 
Crete  and  the  district  inhabited  by  the  Bastamae,  as 
well  as  having  overcome  the  two  powerful  monarchs 
Mithridates  and  Tigranes  ;  thus  finishing  with  glory 
a  war  of  thirty  years'  duration,  and  making  the  pro- 
vince of  Asia,  which  had  been  hithei-to  the  extremity, 
now  only  the  centre  of  tlie  Roman  dominions.  One 
thousand  eight  hundred  cities  and  fortresses  were  said 
to  have  been  reduced,  eight  hundred  and  forty-six 
galleys  burned  or  taken,  and  two  millions  of  enemies 
routed,  slain,  or  made  prisoners  in  the  field.  Among 
the  captives  was  Aristobulus  king  of  Judaea,  the  re- 
presentative of  the  violated  sanctity  of  the  Holy  City; 
a  manifest  sign  of  the  departure  of  the  Divine  pro- 
tection from  which  had  been  exhibited  by  the  pre- 
sence of  the  heathen  general  in  the  most  sacred  part 
of  its  temple,  after  he  had  stormed  its  ramparts,  and 
deluged  its  courts  with  the  blood  of  their  defenders. 
Zozime,  wife  of  the  king  of  Armenia,  and  Tigranes 
his  son,  with  the  wife  and  children  of  the  latter,  the 
sister  of  Mithridates  and  her  five  sons,  the  chiefs  of 
the  pirates,  and  the  hostages  of  the  Iberians  and 
Commageni,  were  also  led  in  bonds  before  his 
chariot.  The  most  rare  productions  of  Asia,  including 
the  ebony  tree  of  India  and  the  famous  balsam  plant 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO.  161 

of  Syria,  gave  variety  and  increased  interest  to  the 
spectacle,  amidst  piles  of  armour  collected  from 
fields  of  battle,  and  models  of  towns  acquired  by 
capitulation  or  assault.  The  wealth,  both  in  coined 
money,  bullion,  and  jewels,  displayed,  introductory  to 
its  being  deposited  in  the  treasury,  was  such  as 
might  excite  doubts  of  the  accuracy  of  the  historians 
by  whom  it  has  been  mentioned,  were  it  not  at 
the  same  time  remembered,  that  the  riches  thus 
acquired  had  been  accumulating  for  years  under  the 
grasping  tyranny  of  the  despotic  princes  from  whom 
they  had  been  wrested,  and  that  the  efiect  of  Roman 
conquests  was  generally  such  as  to  leave  the  countries 
which  had  dared  to  offer  an  inefiectual  resistance,  drain- 
ed, to  the  very  utmost,  of  their  resources.  To  descend  to 
particulars,  some  of  which  may  be  thought  to  have 
exhibited  a  semi-barbaric  taste  on  the  part  of  the 
conquerors,  there  was  carried  in  the  procession  a  bust  of 
the  triumphant  general  entirely  encrusted  with  pearls*, 
a  mountain  of  solid  gold  encircled  by  a  vine  of  the  same 
metal,  and  covered  with  chased  figures  of  stags,  lions, 
and  fruits  of  different  descriptions,  a  golden  moon 
thirty  pounds  in  weight,  thirty-three  crowns  of 
pearls,  three  statues  in  gold  of  Mars,  Minerva,  and 
Apollo,  a  chess-board  and  counters  made  from  two 
large  gems  (probably  crystal)  three  feet  wide  and 
four  long,  and  several  golden  cups,  vessels,  and  couches, 
richly  adorned  with  costly  jewelry,  among  which 
were  borne  several  of  those  chalices  termed  myrrhine, 
formed  from  materials  now  altogether  unknown,  but 
so  much  valued  for  their  beauty  as  sometimes  to  be 
bought  at  the  rate  of  three  hundred  talents  each.    In 

*  Pliny,  Nat.  Hist,  xxxvii.  6,  who  makes  bitter  complaints  against 
this  luxurious  and  extravagant  use  of  a  gem  which  had  liitherto 
constituted  the  ornament  of  females  only.  "  E  margaritis,  Magne, 
tam  prodig&  re  et  feminis  repert&,  quam  gerere  te  fas  non  sit,  bine 
fieri  tuos  vultus,"  &c.  &c. 

M 


162 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


addition  to  tliis  lavish  display  of  precious  materials, 
the  abundance  of  which  might  well  sustain  a  com- 
parison with  the  golden  harvest  reaped  in  after  ages 
from  the  virgin  soil  of  Mexico  and  Peru  by  the 
soldiers  of  Cortez  and  Pizarro,  the  sum  of  twenty 
thousand  talents*  was  added  to  the  public  funds, 
after  a  reward  of  fifteen  hundred  denarii  had  been 
bestowed  upon  each  common  soldier,  and  one  pro- 
portionably  greater  upon  the  ofl&cers.  It  was  further 
ascertained,  by  the  tablets  presented  to  the  gaze 
of  the  populace,  that  the  revenues  of  the  state, 
which  had  hitherto  amounted  to  but  fifty  millions 
of  denarii,  were  increased  by  the  late  conquests  to 
eighty-five  millions. 

Such  were  tlie  circumstances  of  a  pageant  which  has 
been  ostentatiously  recorded  as  surpassing  all  before  it 
in  splendour,  and  indicating,  to  a  greater  extent  than 
any  that  had  preceded  it,  the  irresistible  force  of  the 
armies  of  Rome  and  the  military  genius  of  their 
leader.  Yet  the  star  of  the  general,  who  formed 
on  the  occasion  the  principal  object  of  attraction  to 
the  enthusiastic  and  applauding  multitudet— the  envy 

•  About  tliree  millions  three  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  pounds. 

t  No  English  reatler  can  be  displeased  at  being  reminded  of  the 
description,"  in  reference  to  Pompey's  triumphs,  placed  by  Shak- 
speare  iu  the  mouth  of  the  tribune  Marullus. 

You  blocks,  you  stones,  you  worse  than  senseless  things ! 

O,  you  hard  hearts,  you  cruel  men  of  Rome, 

Knew  you  not  Pompey  1     Many  a  time  and  oft 

Have  you  climb'd  up  to  walls  and  battlements, 

To  lowers  and  windows,  yea,  to  chimney-tops, 

Your  infants  in  vour  arms,  and  there  have  sat 

The  live-long  day,  with  patient  expectation, 

To  see  great  Pompey  pass  the  streets  of  Rome  : 

And  when  you  saw  his  chariot  but  appear, 

Have  you  not  made  an  univereal  shout. 

That  Tiber  trembled  underneath  her  banks, 

To  hear  the  replication  of  your  sounds, 

Made  in  her  concave  shores  1  &c. 

Jui.  C<BS.  Act  i.  so.  1 . 


THE  LIFE   OF   CICERO.  168 

of  the  aspiring — the  wonder  of  the  weak  and  the 
idol  of  the  timid,  who  saw  in  his  elevation  a  sufficient 
guarantee  for  their  own  safety  and  that  of  the 
republic,  seems  to  have  culminated  upon  this  day, 
in  which  every  kind  of  incense  was  offered  to  his 
vanity.  From  henceforth  his  career  was  to  be  cha- 
racterised, with  but  few  exceptions,  by  a  series  of 
mortifications  and  perplexities,  by  a  daily  decrease  of 
reputation,  and  a  hopeless  struggle  against  a  rival 
possessed  of  a  genius  far  superior  to  his  own,  ending 
in  a  downfall  disastrous  and  terrible,  in  proportion 
to  the  greatness  of  which  it  formed  the  instructive 
termination.  The  party,  however,  to  which  he 
owed  his  ultimate  ruin  were  at  the  present  time  dis- 
posed to  consider  him  as  their  friend — the  senate 
and  aristocracy,  although  unable  to  see  what  inten- 
tions were  concealed  beneath  the  mask  which  his 
cold  and  artful  policy  had  assumed,  were  willing  to. 
court  his  favour  by  every  show  of  outward  deference  ; 
and  the  rival  who  was  destined,  at  a  period  yet  to  come, 
to  hurl  him  to  the  dust,  was  only  beginning  to  prepare 
himself  for  the  dazzling  career  allotted  to  him,  by  a 
temporary  command  in  a  distant  province.  At  this 
moment,  as  Sallust  has  remarked  of  Marius  upon  a 
similar  occasion,  the  hopes,  the  expectations,  and  the 
desires  of  his  countrymen,  were  fixed  upon  himself 
alone. 


A 


M  2 


164  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Consulate  of  Lucius  Afranins  and  Metellus  Celer— Coalition 
ofPompey  with  Clodius— First  Triumvirate— Characters  of  its 
Members— Cicero  composes  in  retirement  his  History  of  his 
Consulshij>— Julius  Caesar  and  Calpurnius  Bibulus  returned 
Consuls— Agrarian  Law  of  the  former— He  is  opposed  by  Cato— 
Adoption  of  Clodius  into  the  PUbeian  Family  of  PuWius  Fon- 
teius— Oration  of  Cicero  for  Flaccus— Clodius  elected  Tribune- 
Decline  of  the  Influence  of  Pompey— Casar  offers  a  Commission 
to  Cicero,  as  his  Lieutenant,  in  the  Gallic  War- Letter  of  Cicero 
to  his  Brother  Quiutus  in  Asia— Acts  brought  forward  by  Clo- 
dius at  the  commencement  of  his  Tiibuneship— His  Law  agamst 
the  arbitrary  Infliction  of  Capital  Punishment  passed  by  an 
Assembly  of  the  People— Distress  of  Cicero— He  applies  for 
Protection  to  Pompey  without  effect,  and  prepares  to  retire  into 
Exile— Expressions  of  Public  Opinion  in  his  Favour— He  with- 
draws from  Rome. 

•     The  first  exertion  of  power  on  the  part  ofPompey, 
after    his   return   to  Rome,  was  his  procuring  the 
consulship  for  Lucius  Afranius,  a  candidate  of  the 
meanest   order  of  intellect  and  principle,  and   only 
remarkable  for  his  servile  devotion  to  the  interests  of 
the  patron  by  whose  influence  the  honour  was  con- 
ferred upon  him.     The   election,   according  to  the 
then  prevalent  custom,  was  distinguished  by  the  most 
unblushing  corruption,    the   purchase-money   being 
distributed  to  the  voters  by  the  agents  of  Pompey  in 
open  day,  and  in   full  sight    of  the    citizens.     The 
better   disposed   part  of  the   community,    however, 
derived  some  comfort  from  the  character  of  Quintus 
Metellus  Celer,  the  colleague  of  Afranius,  who  had 
on   many  occasions    exhibited    himself    as    a    true 
patriot  and  well-wisher  to  the  interests  of  his  country. 
His  constancy,  in  the  early  part  of  his  magistracy, 
was  put  to  a  severe  test.    The  tribune  Flavins,  having 
brought  forward  an  Agrarian  law,  dividing  certaui 
lands  of  Italy  among  the  soldiers  ofPompey  and  the 


m 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICEKO. 


165 


\ 


commons  of  Rome,   Metellus,  on  opposing  it  to  the 
utmost  of  his  power,  was  committed  to  prison  by 
Flavins,  and  when   the  greater  part  of  the    Senate 
9,ttempted  to  accompany  the  consul  to  his  confine- 
ment, the  tribune,  having  placed  his  chair   before 
the  prison  door,  peremptorily  forbade  their  approach. 
Such    facts     confound     the   jurist    who     attempts 
accurately  to   analyse    the    constitution    of  Rome. 
They   might,    at    the    same    time,    lead    any   one 
entering  upon  this  field  of    historical    research   to 
deny  the  possibility  of  the  existence  of  any  govern- 
ment administered  by  powers  so  diametrically  opposed 
and  so  ill  defined  in  their  extent  and  limits,  were  it 
not  remembered  that  the  anomalous  authority  of  the 
tribunitial  office,  if  not  neutralised  by  the  existence 
of  different  opinions  among  the  body  of  men  invested 
with  it,  as  was  frequently  the  case,  was  at  all  times 
almost  entirely  directed  by  the  public  opinion,  to  which 
it  owed  its  existence,  and  of  which  it  was  the  mere 
instrument.     The  indignation  of  the  citizens  was  so 
strongly  expressed  on  this  occasion,  that  Flavius  was 
speedily  obliged  to  release   the   magistrate   he  had 
insulted,  whose  reputation  was  in  consequence  raised 
to  a  still  higher  pitch.     Cicero  spoke  upon  the  Agra- 
rian law  of  Flavius*  cautiously  and  ambiguously,  as 
was   necesary  on   so   delicate  a  subject,   the  more 
especially  as  the  bill  was  backed  by  the  authority  of 
Pompey.     In  consequence  of  his  proposals  of  making 
certain  alterations  and  exceptions  which  would  make 
it  necessary  to  re-model  it  to  a  great  extent,  and  of 
the  intervention  of  more  important  subjects  of  consi- 
deration, it  appears  that  the  bill  was  ultimately  aban- 
doned. 

In  order  to  ensure  the  election  of  Afranius,  Pompey, 
as  the  only  means  of  securing  the  interest  of  the 
party  acting  under  his  influence,  had  been  obliged  to 

*  Ad  Attic,  i.  19. 


166 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


enter  into  a  partial  coalition  with  Clodius,  although 
he  had  for  some  time  affected  in  public  so  close  an 
intimacy  with  his  rival,  as  to  be  jestingly  designated 
among  the  multitude  by  the  name  of  Cneius  Cicero*. 
He  was  received  with  open  arms  by  the  turbulent 
faction  with  whose  movements  he  thus  began  to  be 
identified,  but  soon  found  himself  prized  by  his  new 
allies,  as  all  must  expect  to  be  who  act  as  traitors  to 
their  own  convictions  and  principles,  from  the  hope 
of  self-aggrandisement.  Encouraged  by  his  support, 
and  by  his  own  growing  importance  among  his  par- 
tisans, Clodius  now  openly  aimed  at  the  tribuneship, 
and  began,  in  conjunction  with  Herenniusf ,  who  was 
himself  tribune  of  the  people  at  the  time,  to  agitate  the 
plan  which  he  afterwards  carried  into  effect,  of  causing 
himself  to  be  adopted  into  a  plebeian  family,  for  the 
purpose  of  rendering  himself  eligible  to  the  office. 

The  consequences  of  such  a  step  to  Cicero  might 
easily  have  been  foreseen,  but  no  attempt  was  made 
on  his  part  to  avert  them,  by  concessions  to  his 
enemy.  On  the  contrary,  he  seems  to  have  taken 
every  opportunity  of  provoking  him,  by  the  exercise 
of  that  sarcastic  wit  which  he  was  never  able  to 
restrain,  with  whattiver  mischievous  results  to  him- 
self it  might  appear  likely  to  be  attended  J.     The 

♦  Ad  Attic,  lib.  i.  16.  t  Ad  Attic,  i.  19. 

f  An  instance  of  this  is  given,  Ad  Attic,  ii.  1.  —  Ille  antem 
non  simulat,  sed  plane  tribunus  plebis  fieri  cupit,  &c,  "  As  to  Clodius 
he  now  solicits,  without  any  macik,  for  the  tribuneship  of  the  peo- 
ple. When  the  matter  came  before  the  senate  1  confounded  the 
fellow,  censured  his  inconstancy  in  standing  for  the  tribuneship  o( 
Rome,  when,  but  the  other  day,  he  declared,  in  Sicily,  he  would 
stand  for  the  aedileship.  I  said  that  we  hud  no  real  reason  to  be 
alarmed,  since  he  would,  in  the  character  of  a  plebeian,  hare  no 
more  opportnnit)  for  distressing  his  country  than  the  patricians, 
whose  example  he  followed  under  my  consulship.  In  the  next 
place,  having  understood  that  he  had  boasted  in  an  assembly  of  the 
people  of  having  come  to  Rome  in  seven  days  from  the  straits  of 
Sicily,  and  that  he  had  entered  the  city  by  uight  to  prevent  the  crowd 


\ 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  167 

increasing  power  of  Clodius  was  not  the  only  gloomy 
prognostic  by  which  the  political  horizon  at  Rome 
was  at  this  time  darkened.  At  home  the  state  was 
again  agitated  by  disputes  between  the  senate  and 
the  equestrian  order,  partly  on  account  of  the  real  or 
imputed  mal-administration  by  the  latter  of  the 
public  revenues,  of  which  they  were  the  farmers,  and 
partly  on  account  of  the  partiality  shown  by  the 
judges  in  the  recent  case  of  Clodius.  The  common 
people,  on  the  other  hand,  looked  suspiciously  upon 
.both,  and,  under  the  guidance  of  unprincipled  leaders, 
who  maintained  their  ascendancy  over  them  by 
flattering  their  most  extravagant  desires,  were  ready 
for  any  overt  act  of  violence,  which  might  lead  to 
the  perplexity  of  the  ruling  orders.  Abroad  appear- 
ances were  such  as  daily  to  threaten  the  beginning  of 
a  Gallic  war,  a  word  at  all  times  unmusical  to 
Roman  ears ;  since  the  Helvetii  were  known  to  be 
making  preparations  for  the  expedition  in  which 
they  were  afterwards  discomfited  by  the  genius  of 
Caesar,  while  the  Sequaui  and  the  ^dui  were  rising 
in  arms  to  oppose  them.  On  all  sides  the  elements 
of  discord  lay  thickly  scattered,  and  only  required  the 
direction  and  arrangement  of  minds  sufficiently 
powerful  and  determined  to  discharge  their  fury  in  a 
tempest  of  terrible  strength  and  duration,  upon  a 
state  ill  qualified,  from  the  effects  of  still  recent  dis- 
turbances, to  withstand  the  shock. 

who  were  to  come  out  to  meet  him,  I  said  there  was  nothing 
strange  in  a  man's  coming  in  Seven  days  from  Sicily  to  Rome, 
when,  in  three  hours,  he  could  come  and  go  from  Rome  to  Intep- 
amna;  that  it  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  entered  the  city  by 
night;  and  that  nobody  by  going  out  to  meet  him  had  obstructed 
his  approach  when  they  ought  to  have  done  it  most." — Melmoth. 
The  pun,  however,  contained  in  the  last  clause,  "non  esse  itum 
obviam,  ne  turn  quidem,  cum  in  maxime  debuit,"  has  hardly  been 
clearly  translated,  and  is,  perhaps,  untranslateable.  "Had  placed 
themselves  in  his  way,"  will,  perhaps,  convey  in  some  measure  the 
double  meaning  of  the  writer. 


168  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

From  this  year,  in  fact,  is  generally  dated  the  com- 
mencement of  that  well  known  and  fatal  struggle, 
which,  after  a  long  series  of  alternations,  marked  by 
the  desolation  both  of  Italy  and  its  tributary  pro- 
vinces ;  the  sacrifice  of  thousands  of  lives,  includmg 
many  of  the  noblest  and  best  of  the  age  ;  the  annihi- 
lation of  most  of  the  established  forms  of  the  consti- 
tution ;  and,  what  was  worse,  of  the  little  principle 
which  remained  amongst  its   members,— ended   by 
precipitating  the  state  into  the  most  frightful  condi- 
tion of  government  recorded  in  the  pages  of  authentic 
history.     Like  many  other  contentions,  the  last  to 
which  the  Republic  was   exposed,  originated   in    a 
secret  league  and  compact  between  its  most  powerful 
citizens.     Similar  combinations  for  the  purposes  of 
self-aggrandisement  might  have  taken  place  before, 
with  comparatively  little  injury  to  the  constitution  ; 
but  the  name  of  the  first  triumvirate  warns  the 
student  of  the  annals  of  Rome  to  prepare  to  bid  farewell 
to  that  outward  form  and  semblance  of  liberty,  which, 
to  whatever  extent  the  reality  might  have  been  absent, 
had,  up  to  this  time,  continued  to  haunt  the  ruins  of 
the  more  equitable  institutions  of  preceding  periods, 
and,  from  henceforth,  to  look  for  nothing  but  the 
exhibition  of  arbitrary  power,  either  on  its  ascendant 
or  fully  established,  with  its  pretensions  as  well  as 
its  exercise,  its  continuance  no  less  than  its  origin, 
based  onlv  upon  the  aid  and  countenance  of  military 
force.     Yet,  as  the  rise  of  so  stupendous  a  fabric  was 
majestic  and    imposing,  so  neither  was   its  decline 
without  dignity,  nor  its  ruin  unaccompanied  by  cir- 
cumstances well  calculated  to  insure  the  attention 
and  interest  of  all  ages.     In  almost  every  particular 
the    stem   principle    of    impartial   retribution   may 
clearly  be  traced.     The  sword  which  had  made  so 
many  regions  desolate,  and  so  many  cities  tenantless, 
was  now  for  years  to  be  red  with  civil  slaughter  i  and 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


169 


the  hands,  which  had  so  long  been  employed  in 
forging  chains  for  subject  kingdoms,  on  the  point  of 
being  yielded  to  tlie  manacles  of  domestic  tyranny 
and  oppression.  The  fierce  soldiery  who  had  been 
employed  as  the  instruments  of  effecting  conquest 
and  spoliation  abroad,  were  tliemselves  about  to 
rivet  and  render  indissoluble  the  yoke  of  degrad- 
ing bondage  at  home ;  and  the  title  of  Roman, 
hitherto  a  sound  of  distinction  and  terror  in  three 
quarters  of  the  globe,  was  soon  to  signify  the 
meanest  and  most  abject  of  slaves,  whose  pos- 
sessions and  very  existence  depended  upon  the  mood 
of  a  gloomy  misanthrope,  a  brutal  sensualist,  or 
even  of  a  capricious  maniac,  unfortunately  invested 
with  the  substance,  as  well  as  the  ensigns  of  imperial 
power. 

These  results,  if  they  had  been  predicted,  would 
probably  have  been  considered  as  on  a  level  with  the 
wildest  and  most  improbable  creations  of  imagination, 
at  the  time  when  Ca?sar,  having  returned  from  his 
province  of  Spain,  entered,  in  conjunction  withCrassus 
and  Ponipey,  into  the  short-lived  confederacy  pro- 
ductive of  such  disastrous  consequences  to  themselves, 
as  well  as  to  the  liberties  of  their  country.  The 
motives  actuating  each  have  been  briefly  yet  expres- 
sively stated  by  an  ancient  writer,  who  has  asserted 
that  the  olyect  of  the  first  was  to  acquire  power, 
that  of  the  second  to  retain,  and  that  of  the  third  to 
increase  it.  Thus  influenced,  the  parties  to  this 
dangerous  conspiracy  agreed  to  lay  aside  their  mutual 
jealousies,  and  to  devote  all  their  efforts  to  the  pro- 
motion of  each  other's  interests.  No  office  of  conse- 
quence was  to  be  allowed  to  be  conferred  upon  any 
individual  without  their  sanction,  nor  any  rival  to 
stand  opposed  to  the  advancement  of  one  without 
drawing  upon  himself  the  resentment  of  the  rest. 
The  very  terms  of  the   coalition  argued  its  speedy 


170  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

dissolution ;  yet  on  whatever  basis  it  might  have  been 
arranged,  but  one  issue  could  have  been  expected 
from  the  characters  of  those  of  whom  it  was  com- 
posed, and  the  ends  to  which  it  was  intended  to  be 
subservient. 

If  an  attempt  were  made  accurately  to  delineate 
the  principal  actors  in  the  first  part  of  that  drama, 
of  which  Ph^/salia,  Philippi,  and  Actium  were  sub- 
sequent   scenes,    tlie  powers  of   the   biographer   or 
historian  might,  perhaps,  hardly  be  considered  taxed 
to  any  great  degree  of  exertion  in  placing  the  promi- 
nent qualities  either  of  Pompey  or  of  Crassus  before 
his  readers.     The  former  appears  to  have  been  ren- 
dered great  at  least  as  much  by  favourable  circum- 
stances as  by  his  own  talents.     His  military  exploits 
were    indeed    considerable,  but    with  the    resources 
entrusted  to  his  hands  he  could  scarcely  have  effected 
less  ;  and  his  highest  praise  may  be  expressed  by  the 
assertion,   that  he   never  acted   below   them.     The 
army,  to  the '  command  of  which  he  succeeded  in 
early  youth,  had  been  thoroughly  trained  and  disci- 
plined by  his  father  Strabo,  a  general  of  no  light 
merit,  and  w^as,  probably,  in  all  points  superior  to 
the  ill  united  troops  of  the  Marian  faction;  who  fought 
under  all  the  dispiriting  impressions  produced  by  the 
want  of  a  suitable  leader  to  supply  the  place  of  their 
celebrated  chief,  and  the  consciousness  that  they  were 
engaged  in  a  sinking  cause.  His  campaigns  in  Spain 
proved  that  he  was  no  match  for  Sertorius,  (who, 
indeed,  seems  only  to  have  required  a  more  extensive 
field  for  the  display  of  his  talents,  to  rank  with  the 
first    generals   of   antiquity,)   since,    until    the    as- 
sassination of  that  celebrated  partisan  by  Perpenna^ 
the   event   of  the   war  continued  to  waver  in  the 
balance,  notwithstanding  all  the  advantages  possessed 
by  the  forces  of  the  senate.      With  the  prodigious 
armament  placed  under  his  command,  bearing  with 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO.  171 

it  the  flower  of  the  military  force  of  Rome,  it  was  no 
difficult  matter  to  sweep  the  Mediterranean  of  the 
marauding  squadrons  by  which  it  was  infested;  and 
the  effeminate  Asiatics,  led  into  the  field  by  Mithri- 
dates  and  Tigranes,  seem,  imder  the  effect  produced 
by  the  previous  victories  of  Lucullus,  and  their  own 
cowardice,  to  have  subsequently  offered  only  such  a 
resistance  as  might  have  shamed  even  the  victors 
themselves  to  encounter.  The  praise  of  readiness, 
of  celerity,  and  of  great  personal  daring,  cannot, 
indeed,  be  denied  him,  nor  the  power  of  acquiring 
the  confidence  of  those  under  his  command ;  but  in 
none  of  his  operations  do  we  distinguish  that  exten- 
fiive  power  of  combination,  that  almost  intuitive 
perception  of  the  designs  of  his  antagonist,  with  that 
aptitude  in  making  arrangements  for  encountering 
and  obviating  unfavourable  contingencies  long  before 
their  occurrence,  which  render  a  mastery  in  the  art 
of  war,  mischievous  as,  in  most  cases,  it  may  be,  one  of 
the  most  difficult  of  human  attainments.  His  judg- 
ment, although  in  general  sufficiently  shrewd  and 
piercing  on  those  points  in  which  his  interests  were  con- 
cerned, does  not  appear  to  have  been  of  the  highest 
order,  nor  his  moral  qualities  such  as  to  dazzle  and  en- 
sure the  admiration  of  his  countrymen.  Above  all,  he 
seems  to  have  been  deficient  in  the  most  essential  art 
towards  ensuring  success  as  a  popular  leader — the 
art  of  disguising  the  profound  selfishness  on  which  such 
a  character  is  too  often  based,  and  which,  certainly, 
formed  a  prominent  feature  of  his  own.  His  eloquence 
appears  not  to  have  risen  much  above  the  level  of 
that  possessed  by  almost  every  Roman ;  and  his 
stately  frigidity  of  manner,  producing  the  necessary 
disadvantage  with  which  it  is  accompanied  to  all 
who  indulge  in  such  a  carriage,  of  speedily  reducing 
the  affection  of  those  best  disposed  towards  them  to 
the   same  temperature,   may  also  be  considered  as 


172 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


auguring  a  consciousness  of  the  want  of  those  higher 
intellectual    resources,     which,   being    sufficient    in 
themselves  to  excite  and  to  keep  alive  the  wonder  of 
others,  enable  their  possessor  to  dispense  with  any- 
outward  assumption  of  superiority.  Crassus,  although 
inferior  to  Pompey  in  the  extent  and  lustre  of  his 
services,  as  well  as  his  abilities  for  war,  and  unsur- 
rounded  by  the  splendour  of  foreign  conquests  and 
triumphs,  was  yet  his  superior  in  some  respects,  and 
his  equal  in  many  more.     In  the  field  he  had  proved 
himself  at  least  an  officer  superior  to  any  of  those 
who  had  been  sent  before  him   with  the  command 
against  Spartacus.     At  the  bar  he  was  known  as  an 
eminent  pleader,  thoroughly   acquainted    with   the 
theory  and  practice  of  the  then  existing  system  of 
jurisprudence,  and  endeared  to  a  numerous  class  of 
citizens,  as  well  by  his  readiness  to  undertake  the 
cause  of  the  poorest  who  claimed  his  assistance,  as  by 
the  general  affability  of  his  deportment.    His  immense 
wealth,  at  the  same  time,  ensured  him  the  command 
over  thousands  among  the  necessitous,  towards  whom 
he  acted,  probably  from  interested  motives,  as  a  con- 
siderate and  liberal  creditor.     He  was  not  unversed 
in  the  study  of  philosophy  and  literature  himself,  nor 
incapable  of  valuing  it  in  others;  yet,  his  inordinate 
and  insatiable  avarice  was  sufficient  to  have  obscured 
a  far  greater  number  of  good  qualities  than  he  at  any 
time  possessed,  and  rendered  those  to  which  he  could 
actually  lay  claim,  often  insufficient  to  shield  him 
from  the  contempt  and  dislike  of  his  countrymen.  It 
was  this  vice,  which  producing,  when  indulged  by 
him,  as  disastrous  effects  as  ambition  in  the  case  of 
other  men,  caused  him  to  countenance,  if  he  did  not 
aid,  the  first  designs  of  Catiline ;  to  conspire  after- 
wards, with  more  dangerous  confederates,  against  the 
freedom  of  Rome  ;  and,  finally,  to  stain  the  sands  of 
Parthia  with  the  blood  of  nearly  seven  legions,  and  to 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO.  173 

add  the  fasces  of  a  Roman  proconsul  to  the  trophies 
of  the  Arsacidae. 

But  rising  far  above  both  his  compeers,  the  third 
and  greatest  member  of  the  first  triumvu-ate  presents 
a  character  which  it  would  require  no  limited  skill  in 
moral  analysis  to  appreciate,  and  no  ordinary  power 
of  language  accurately  to  define.  The  consummate 
general— the  accomplished  writer — the  ardent  lover 
of  literature  and  philosophy,  blending— 


<( 


The  courtier's,  soldier's,  scholar's,  eye,  tongue,  sword, 


ft 


to  a  greater  extent  than  any  one  occupying  a  similar 
station  in  ancient  or  modern  times — generous  alike 
in    friendship    and   enmity — devoid    neither  of  the 
gentler  affections,  nor  of  the  refinements  of  perfect 
courtesy— possessed  of  an  eloquence,   which,  if   he 
had  not  been  a  contemporary  of  Cicero,  would  have 
ensured  him  the  reputation  of  being  the  first  orator 
of  his  age,  and  of  a  wit,  in  which,  if  he  had  often 
allowed  himself  to  exercise  it,  he  would  have  been 
left  without  a  rival— with  a  genius  as  versatile  as  it 
was  various  ;  and  capable  of  turning  from  the  most 
abstruse  subject  of  investigation,  or  from  the  produc- 
tion of  those  models  of  military  history,  which  are 
unfortunately  the  only  remaining  monuments  of  its 
power,  to  the  lighter  task  of  humorous  and  satiric 
composition,  with  equal  readiness  and  success — the 
idol  of  his  soldiers  in  the  field,  and  no  less  beloved 
by  the  lower  orders  at  home— with  unbounded  power 
of  application  to  business,  yet  no  unwillingness,  if 
fitting  opportunities  were  offered,  to  enter  into  the 
amusements,  and  sometimes  the  prevalent  dissipation 
of  the  time,  and  to  win  those  to  his  interest  by  a 
companionship  in  pleasure,  whom  he  was  unable  to 
gain  by  more  direct  means — such,  in  general  terms, 
was  the  fated  and  gifted  individual  who  now  began 
to  attract  the  gaze  of  his  countrymen,  like  the  bright 


I 


174 


THE    LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


but  eccentric  luminary  which  was  chosen  by  his 
successors  as  his  emblem,  but  portending,  much  more 
truly  than  any  such  fancied  harbinger  of  coming  mis- 
chief, disorder,  bloodshed,  and  ruin  to  the  nation 
over  which  his  baleful  influence  was  extended.  More 
recent  times  may  have  exhibited  his  equal  in  the 
management  of  armed  masses,  the  disposition  of 
battles,  and  the  rapid  and  skilful  movements  by 
which  victories  are  both  ensured  and  improved ; 
and  although  we  are  without  very  specific  data  for 
judging  upon  the  subject,  we  may  also  easily  imagine 
that  he  has  not  been  without  a  rival  in  his  mastery 
over  popular  assemblies,  and  in  bending  to  his  own 
interests  the  wills  and  inclinations  of  men  ;  but  a 
character  combining  his  military  abilities  with  his 
talent  as  a  political  leader,  his  skill  in  debate,  his 
literary  attainments,  his  winning  manners,  his  pro- 
found judgment,  and  ready  address,  is  to  be  sought, 
if  ever  destined  to  exist,  among  the  actors  in  ages 
yet  to  come.  Notwithstanding  the  calamitous  efiect, 
moreover,  of  the  ambition  by  which  his  better  qua- 
lities were  obscured,  his  unhesitating  sacrifice  of 
all  considerations,  but  such  as  were  likely  to  lead 
to  his  advance  to  despotic  power, — the  misery  of 
which  he  was  the  direct  inflictor  in  his  own  time, 
and  the  still  greater  amount  of  after  wretchedness  of 
which  he  was  more  remotely  the  agent, — he  has 
succeeded  better  than  any  equally  unprincipled  con- 
queror and  destroyer  of  his  species,  in  ensuring  the 
regard  and  sympathy  of  succeeding  generations.  His 
clemency,  his  generosity,  and  magnanimity  towards 
those  who  survived  his  attempt  upon  absolute 
dominion  and  its  success,  have  effaced,  to  a  great 
extent,  the  recollection  of  the  thousands  who  perished 
in  the  previous  struggle*,  and  amidst  the  blaze  of 

*  Montesquieu,  (Grandeur  et  Decadence  dcs  Romains,  chap;  x.) 
obsenres,  yrhh  :nore  shrewdness  than  chaiity»  on  this  subject  :<— 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO.  175 

his  splendid  endowments,  the  horrors  by  which  their 
exhibition  was  accompanied  have  been  almost,  i^  not 
altogether,  forgotten. 

It  is  remarkable  that  all  the  members  of  the 
first  triumvirate  were,  in  the  more  early  part 
of  their  aspiring  career,  rivals  for  the  favour  of 
the  common  people.  Remote  from  these  stood 
the  party  of  the  senators  and  patricians,  the  Catuli, 
Hortensii,  and  other  members  of  noble  houses, 
rallied  by  the  iron  integrity  and  stoical  patriotism  of 
their  leader  Cato,  and  presenting  a  firm  front  to  the 
innovations  witli  which  they  were  threatened,  and 
the  daily  defections  of  many  of  their  own  body  to 
the  opposite  cause.  This  was  the  faction  to  which 
Pompey  afterwards  had  recourse,  and  which,  as  the 
former  partisan  of  Sylla,  he  should  never  have  de- 
serted to  contest  the  pre-eminence  with  his  rival  on 
ground  exclusively  the  property  of  the  latter ;  since 
Caesar,  besides  his  claim  upon  their  affections  derived 
from  his  relationship  to  their  well  remembered  leader, 
had  won  the  regards  of  the  Marian,  or  popular  fac- 
tion, by  boldly  re-erecting,  at  the  hazard  of  his  own 
personal  safety,  the  trophies  over  the  Cimbri  which 
Sylla  had  ordered  to  be  thrown  down,  and  by  bring- 
ing to  a  severe  reckoning,  while  praetor,  the  most 
active  agents  in  the  cruelties  of  the  ferocious  dicta- 
tor. Cicero,  although  sounded  by  the  emissaries  of 
Caesar,  with  a  view  to  ascertaining  the  possibility  of 
inducing  him  to  accede  to  an  alliance  with  himself 
and  his  new  colleagues,  studiously  kept  aloof  from 
every  party ;  either  led  by  his  vanity  into  a  feai'  of 
compromising  his  own  high  standing  in  the  republic, 

**  Cesar  pardouua  a  tout  le  monde  ;  mais  il  ne  senible  que  la  mode- 
ration que  I'on  niontre  apres  qu'on  a  tout  usurpe  ne  merite  pas  de 
grandes  louanges."  The  example  is  at  least  one  which  has  not  been 
very  frequently  followed,  and  it  would  have  been  quite  as  easy, 
and  far  more  safe,  to  have  imitated  the  conduct  of  Sylla,  wbea 
possessed  of  the  same  power. 


176 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


by  acting  in  any  other  character  than  that  of  the 
principal  in  whatever  he  was  engaged*,  or  from  an 
insight  into  the  pernicious  tendency  of  all  such  com- 
binations.    During  the  consulate   of   Metelkis  and 
Afranius,  and  in  the  early  part  of  the  succeeding 
year,  his  letters  indicate  that  he  passed  a  considerable 
part  of  his  time  at  his  villas  near  Antium,  Arpinum, 
Pompeii,  and  Formiae,  employed  principally  in  the 
composition  of  the  history  of  his  consulship  in  the 
Greek  language,  and  in  celebrating  the  same  event 
in  Latin  verse.     After  sending  the  formert,  with  his 
consular  orations,  on  which  he  had  bestowed  his  final 
corrections,  to  his  friend  Atticus,  who  had  also,  on 
his  part,  finished  a  work  on  this  inexhaustible  sub- 
ject, for  his  opinion,  he  transmitted  it  to  Posidonius 
of  Rhodes,  a  philosopher  whose  answer  sufficiently 
proves  that  he  was  a  true  member  of  the  compli- 
mentary school  of  criticism.     In  one  of  his  epistles, 
written  from   Rome,  he  endeavours   to    compose  a 
difference  which  had  arisen  between  Atticus  and  his 


•  Shakspeare,  -whose  knowledge  of  mankind  seems  to  have 
atnoimted  to  little  less  than  absolute  intuition,  in  the  very  limited 
notice  he  has  bestowed  upon  Cicero,  has  seized  at  once  ujmn  this 
most  characteristic  feature  in  his  disposition,  in  the  scene  in  which 
the  conspiracy  against  Caesar  is  formed. 

Cassiits.   But  what  of  Cicero  ?  shall  we  leave  him  out  ? 

Casca.  Let  us  not  leave  him  out. 

(jinnn .  No,  by  no  means. 

Melellus.  O  let  us  have  him  ;  for  his  silver  hairs 
Will  purchase  us  a  good  opinion. 
And  buy  men's  voices  to  commend  our  deeds. 
It  shall  be  said,  his  judgment  ruled  our  hands. 
Our  youths  and  wildness  shall  no  wit  appear, 
But  all  be  buried  in  his  gravity. 

Brutus. — O  nam<-  him  not, — let  us  not  break  with  him, 
For  he  will  never  follow  any  thing 
That  other  men  begin. 

Julius  CiBS. — Act  2,  Scene  1, 

I   Ad  Attic,  i.  20,  ii.  1. 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


177 


brother  Quintus*.  In  another,  he  complains  bitterly 
of  the  indifference  of  the  great  body  of  the  patricians  to 
subjects  of  vital  importance  to  the  well-being  of  the 
state,  and  represents  them,  no  doubt  with  strict  regard 
to  truth,  as  paying  far  more  attention  to  stocking  their 
fish-pondst,  and  teaching  their  mullets  to  feed  from 
their  hands,  than  to  their  duties  as  statesmen.  In  a 
third,  written  from  Antium  J,  a  place  of  retirement 
in  which  he  seems  to  be  luxuriating  in  his  temporary 
freedom  from  public  anxieties,  and  giving  himself  up 
to  a  state  of  listless  enjoyment§,  he  expresses  a  desire 

•  Ad  Attic,  i.  17.  The  difference  in  question  appears  to  have 
arisen  from  the  refusal  of  Atticus  to  accompany  Quintus  Cicero, 
into  his  province  of  Asia,  as  his  legate.  The  whole  of  the  beauti- 
ful letter  upon  the  subject  is  well  worthy  perusal,  as  one  of  the 
most  finished  compositions  in  the  epistolary  writings  of  Cicero. 
One  passage,  "  vidi  enira,  vidi  penitusqueperspexi,"  which  breathes 
the  very  spirit  of  friendship,  although  it  is  impossible  to  do  justice 
to  the  original,  has  been  elegantly  translated  by  Melraotli. 
'*  Amidst  the  various  vicissitudes  of  my  life,  I  have  witnessed,  be- 
lieve me  I  have  witnessed,  your  joys  and  anxieties  for  me.  Often 
have  your  kind  compliments  upon  my  success  added  to  my  pleasure  ; 
often  have  your  consolations  in  my  trouble  taken  from  my  pain.  But 
now,  while  you  are  absent,  irreparable  is  my  loss,  not  only  for  your 
excellent  advice,  but  for  those  entertainments  which  your  conversation 
afforded  me.  Need  I  notice  to  you  the  state  of  public  affairs  ?  a 
subject  in  which  I  can  never  permit  myself  to  be  remiss.  Need  I 
mention  my  employments  in  the  Forum  ?  to  which  I  have  been 
hitherto  led  in  my  pursuit  of  public  honours,  and  which  I  now 
pursue,  that  I  may  maintain  the  dignity  to  which  they  have  raised 
me.  Need  I  mention  my  domestic  concerns  ?  in  which  I  was  so 
much  at  a  loss,  both  before  and  after  the  departure  of  my  brother, 
for  you  and  your  advice.  In  short,  it  is  incompatible  with  my 
toil,  with  my  rest,  with  my  business,  with  my  pleasure,  with  my 
affairs  in  the  Forum,  with  my  affairs  in  the  family,  with  my  public, 
with  my  private  concerns,  that  I  should  be  longer  without  your 
endearing  counsels,  your  highly  valued  conversations." 

t  Ad  Attic,  i.  1.  The  extravagance  of  the  Roman  nobility,  in 
this  respect,  is  sufficiently  known.  The  piscina,  or  fish-ponds,  were 
often  large  salt-water  lakes,  formed  and  stocked  at  immense  (expense. 
— See  Pliny  Hist.  Nat.  ix.  Ixxix — Ixxxii. 

X  Ad  Attic,  ii.  5. 

§  Ad  Attic,  ii.  4.     Sic   enim  sum  complexus  otium,  ut  ab  co 

N 


17B  THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 

to  visit  Egypt  at  some  future  time,  and  relieve  him- 
self, by  an  absence  from  his  country,  from  the  disgust 
occasioned  by  his  contemplation  of  the  existing  state 
of  public  affairs.  Yet  he  quotes  the  language  of 
Hector  in  the  Iliad*,  expressing  his  shame  of  the 
censure  of  his  countrymen,  and  above  all,  that  of 
Cato,  whom  he  represents  as  his  Polydamas,  if  he 
should  forsake  his  post  at  so  important  a  crisis  ;  and 
asks  : — "  What,  in  such  a  case,  would  be  the  opinion 
of  historians,  with  respect  to  my  conduct,  six  hundred 
years  hence  ?"  In  most  of  his  epistles  Clodius  is  assailed 
with  an  earnestness,  which  indicates  that  uncompro- 
mising enemy  to  have  become  no  trifling  object  of 
dread.  He  mentions,  also,  his  having  projected  a 
geographical  work,  which  he  probably  never  com- 
pleted. With  these  exceptions,  his  correspondence, 
until  his  return  to  Rome  in  the  summer  of  the 
year  694  a.  u.  c,  possesses  little  attraction. 

According  to  his  previous  arrangement  with  Pom- 
pey  and  Crassus,  Caesar  now  stood  for  the  consulship. 
With  the  support  of  two  such  aids,  his  success  was 
little  less  than  certain.  He  was  accompanied  by  both 
to  the  place  of  election,  and  his  return  was  effected 
without  further  trouble.  But  the  senate  had  suffi- 
cient interest  left  to  ensure  at  the  same  time  the  ap- 
pointment of  Marcus  Calpumius  Bibulus,  a  patrician 
entirely  devoted  to  their  interests.  Between  magis- 
trates so  opposite  in  their  sentiments,  it  was  not 

divelli  non  queam,  &c.  *'  I  am  grown  so  fond  of  the  leisure  I  enjoy 
that  1  cannot  without  violence  be  separated  from  it.     1  therefore 
amuse  myself  with  my  books,  of  wliith  1  have  a  great  number  at 
Antium,  or  I  count  the  waves,  for  the  season  is  too  tempestuous  for 
fishing,  and  I  have  no  inclination  to  \\r'nc.*^-r-Melmoth. 
*  Iliad,  vi.  442.  'AiSfo/xai  Tpcaas  kuI  TpwiSas  €\K€anr(Tr\ovSj  Sec. 
How  would  the  sons  of  Troy  in  arms  renown'd, 
And  Troy's  proud  dames  whose  garments  sweep  the  groun<l. 
Attaint  the  lustre  of  my  former  name, 
Should  Hector  basely  quit  the  Held  of  fame Pope. 


THE   LIFE  OP  CICERO.  179 

to  be  expected  that  there  could  be  any  long  con- 
tinuance of  harmony  ;  and  the  Roman  public  were 
speedily  called  upon  to  witness  their  contentions. 
Csesar  entered  upon  his  office,  resolved  upon  making 
use  of  the  ordinary  methods  of  conciliating  tlie  popu- 
lace, and  speedily  brought  forward  an  Agrarian  law, 
and  a  bill  for  a  distribution  of  corn,  as  an  earnest  of 
his  intentions  in  their  favour.  Cato,  according  to  his 
custom,  opposed  it  in  conjunction  with  Bibulus,  and 
the  dispute  rose  to  such  a  pitch,  that  Caesar  at  length, 
by  an  unwarrantable  exertion  of  power,  ordered 
his  inflexible  opponent  to  prison.  With  his  usual 
dignity,  Cato  arose  and  obeyed  the  mandate  without 
remonstrance,  being  followed  in  mournful  silence  by 
great  numbers  of  the  senate.  The  expedient,  how- 
•  ever,  which  seemed  likely  to  produce  so  little  effect, 
was  not  carried  fully  into  execution,  since  Caesar,  who 
had  a  sufficient  sense  of  justice  left  to  be  ashamed  of  his 
conduct,  and  was  besides  conscious  that  his  reputation 
was  not  likely  to  be  increased  by  it,  ordered  one  of  the 
tribunes  to  interfere  in  behalf  of  Cato,  and  to  rescue 
him  from  the  hands  of  the  officers,  to  whose  custody 
he  had  been  entrusted,  before  he  should  reach  the 
place  of  confinement.  At  a  subsequent  assembly  of  the 
people,  the  conduct  of  the  triumvirate  was  equally 
arbitrary.  On  this  occasion,  Csesar  presenting  him- 
self openly  between  Pompey  and  Crassus,  inquired 
of  both  in  the  presence  of"  the  multitude,  whether 
they  were  disposed  to  think  favourably  of  his  new 
laws,  and  on  being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  fur- 
ther asked  of  Pompey,  whether  in  the  event  of  his  being 
prevented  from  carrying  them  out,  he  would  come 
to  his  assistance,  and  received  for  reply  the  assurance 
that  he  would  not  only  hasten  to  his  relief,  but  that 
against  those  who  assailed  him  with  the  sword,  he 
would  interpose  both  sword  and  shield.  This  was  no 
idle  threat,  since  when  the  last  assembly  was  held 

N  2 


130 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


to  ascertain  the  public  decision  with  respect  to  his 
laws,  the  Forum  was  filled  by  Pompey  with  a  crowd 
of  armed  retainers,  who  on  the  appearance  of  Bibulus 
accompanied  by  Lucullus  and   Cato,   loaded  them 
with  insult,  and  after  contemptuously  breaking  the 
fasces  of  the  unpopular  consul,  drove  both  himself 
and  his  train  from  the  spot.     The  Agrarian  bill, 
which  related  to  the  division  of   certain  lands  m 
Campania,  was  then  passed  without  further  oppo- 
sition.    The  nobility,  for  the  most  part,  dismayed 
and  dispirited  by  these  outward    indications  of  a 
coalition  which  boded  no  good  to  themsslves,  were 
by  the  last  stroke  now  almost  entirely  deterred  from 
the  feeble  resistance  they  had  lately  been  encouraged 
by  Cato  to  maintain ;  being  apparently  deprived  of 
all  hope  that  the  union  against  them  would  prove  but 
transient,  by  the  marriage  of  Julia,  the  daughter  of 
C^sar,  to  Pompey,  who  had  some  time  before,  with 
sufficient  cause,  divorced  his  former  wife  Mucia,  the 
sister  of  Metellus  Celer. 

The  final  adoption  of  Clodius  into  the  plebeian  fa- 
mily of  Publius  Fonteius,  after  it  had  been  long  de- 
layed, w^as  another  ill  omen  to  the  aristocracy.  C^sar, 
now  the  great  agent  in  every  public  event  of  importance, 
is  said  to  have  been  the  principal  promoter  of  this  also, 
provoked  by  certain  reflections  upon  the  character  of 
the  times,  which  had  fallen  from  Cicero  in  a  public 
court  of  justice  while  speaking  in  favour  of  his 
former  colleague  Caius  Antonius.  This  noted  cha- 
racter conducting  himself  in  his  province  of  Mace- 
donia much  as  he  had  done  at  Rome,  was,  on  his 
return,  impeached  and  condemned  to  banishment, 
and  it  was  in  endeavouring  to  mitigate  the  general 
odium  against  him,  that  Cicero  made  use  of  terms 
which  those  who  reported  them  to  Caesar  repre- 
sented as  intended  to  convey  a  censiure  upon  himsdf  *. 

•  Pro  Domo  su^,  xvi. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  IBl 

His  part  was  taken  upon  the  instant,  and  it  is  said 
that  within  three  hours  after  the  obnoxious  words 
had  been  uttered,  all  preparations  were  made  for  the 
adoption  of  Clodius,  which  was  efiected  the  same 
day,  by  the  ceremony  called  "  Arrogatio*."     This 
consisted  in  summoning  a  general  assembly-of  the 
thirty  curiae,  into  which  the  citizens  resident  in  Rome 
were  divided,  and  submitting  to  their  pleasure,  whe- 
ther the  person  wishing  to  be  transferred  into  another 
family  should  be  allowed  the  privilege  he  desired. 
The  auspices  were  at  the  same  time  carefully  taken 
by  the  pontifices ;  and  it  is  recorded  to  the  no  small 
disgrace  of  Pompey  that,  on  this  occasion,  he  assisted 
in  making  the  necessary  observations.     A  terrible 
adversary" was  thus  let  loose   against   Cicero,  since 
Clodius,  the  moment  he  found  himself  free  from  the 
trammels  of  his  patrician  descent,  began  to  exert 
himself  with  the  utmost  diligence  to  secure  his  return 
as  tribune  of  the  people  at  the  approaching  comitia, 
and  the  immediate  consequences  of  his  attaining  such 
a  position  it  was  not  difficult  to  conjecture,   as  well 
from  his  well  known  character,  as  from  the  threats 
of  vengeance  to  which  he  had  long  accustomed  him- 
self openly  to  give  utterance. 

Whatever  his  real  feelings  of  apprehension  might 
be,  Cicero  pretended  perfect  indiiFerence  to  this  serious 
demonstration  against  him  in  a  quarter  from  which 
everything  was  to  be  dreaded.  Without  giving 
himself  the  trouble  to  divert  the  tempest  by  taking 
an  active  part  in  public  affairs,  or  endeavouring  to 
enUst  a  party  in  his  defence,  he  seems  to  have  rested 

*  The  form  of  the  Arrogatio  may  be  found  in  Aulus  Gelliu?, 
Noctes  Atticae,  v.  19.  The  ceremony  was  only  used  when  the 
person  to  be  adopted  was  of  age,  and  his  own  master.  In  the 
case  of  minors,  the  transfer  from  one  family  to  another,  which 
was  then  termed  "  adoptlo"  or  "  adoptatio,"  was  performed  before 
the  praetor,  and  was  preceded  by^emancipation  performed  m  the 
usual  manner,  "  per  aes  et  libram." 


182  THE   LIFE   OF  CICERO. 

secure  in  the  protection  of  Pompey,  with  whom  he 
now  endeavoured  to  unite  himself  still  more  closely, 
and  from  whom  he  seems  to  have  received  the  strongest 
assurances  of  assistance  if  it  should  be  required.  He 
was,  however,  far  from  being  idle  in  the  Forum,  as 
is  proved  by  his  defence  of  Flaccus,  who  was  accused 
by  Decimus  Lselius  of  extortion  in  the  province  of 
Asia,  in  which  he  had  acted  as  propraetor.  From 
this  oration  we  learn,  tliat  he  had  also,  in  the  former 
part  of  the  year,  twice  spoken  in  a  prior  cause,  that 
of  Aulus  Thermus,  and  tliat  his  client  was  acquitted 
in  consequence  of  his  exertions  and  eloquence.  His 
speech  in  behalf  of  Flaccus  is  remarkable  for  little 
else  than  the  ingenuity  with  which  he  attempts  to 
invalidate  the  testimony  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks  by  an 
attack  upon  the  veracity  of  their  race  indiscrimi- 
nately, and  upon  their  own  branch  of  it  in  particular. 
To  modern  readers  one  count  in  the  indictment 
against  the  propraetor,  charging  him  with  having 
forbidden  the  exportation  of  gold  by  the  Jews  of  his 
province  to  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  cannot  be  indif- 
ferent. The  orator,  in  his  vainglorious  confidence  in 
the  stability  of  his  own  nation,  and  his  pride  in  the 
recent  conquest  of  Pompey,  takes  tlie  opportunity, 
when  treating  upon  this  subject  of  accusation,  of  ap- 
pealing to  the  event  of  war  as  having  determined  the 
relative  power  of  the  Jewish  and  Roman  religions. 
The  whole  system  of  the  former  he  designates,  with 
the  usual  careless  contempt  of  his  nation  with  respect  to 
a  matter  on  which  they  had  never  deigned  to  make 
inquiries,  a  barbarous  superstition ;  and  observes, 
with  grave  sarcasm,  that  the^^ct  of  its  residence 
Laving  been  conquered  and  enslaved,  was  a  sufficient 
proof  of  the  degree  of  favour  in  which  it  was  held  by 
the  immortal  Gods*.  Flaccus  having  been  instru- 
mental as  praetor  in  the  seizure  of  the  Allobroges  at 

*  Pro  Flacco,  xviii. 


THE    LIFE  OF   CICERO.  183 

the  Milvian  bridge  during  the  Catilinarian  conspi- 
racy, the  opportunity  was  of  course  not  suffered  to 
escape  by  Cicero  of  introducing,  by  way  of  an  apo- 
strophe*, his  usual  description  of  the  threatened 
horrors  of  the  conflagration  and  massacre  from  which 
the  state  had  been  delivered  by  his  activity.  He  at 
the  same  time  expressed,  in  no  ambiguous  terms,  his 
own  perfect  consciousness  of  the  tempest  which  was 
about  to  burst  upon  his  head  in  consequence  of  the 
part  he  had  taken  on  that  occasion  t. 

The  indications  of  its  approach  were  by  this  time 
sufficiently  numerous  to  be  obvious  to  an  observer 
far  less  clear-sighted  than  himself.  Bibulus  having  in 
despair  abandoned  the  course  he  had  at  first  pursued, 
and  left,  after  a  feeble  opposition,  the  field  entirely  to 
his  antagonists,  Clodius,  by  the  interest  of  Caesar, 
was  borne  on  the  full  tide  of  a  faction  now  completely 
triumphant,  to  the  office  of  which  he  had  so  long 
been  ambitious,  and  declared,  to  the  dread  and  dis- 
satisfaction of  the  uninfected  part  of  the  community, 
tribune  elect.     The  consular  comitia  were  equally 
unfavourable  to  the  true  interests  of  the  state,  since 
they  ended  in   the   return   of  Aulus  Gabinius  and 
Lucius  Calpurnius  Piso,  two  candidates  of  as  aban- 
doned a  character  as  ever  aspired   to  the  honour. 
Pompey,  who  had  hitherto  been  little  behind  Caesar 
in  obsequiousness  to  the  seditious  partisans  of  Clodius 
and  Curio,  now  began  bitterly  to  repent  of  the  false 
step  he   had  taken,   on  finding  himself,  instead  of 
meeting  with  the  honours  he  had  expected,  led  about 
in  triumph  by  the  faction  to  whom  he  had  made  so 
many  sacrifices,  and  publicly  exhibited  as  a  trophy 
of  its  success.     He  had  not  even  the  consolation  of 


*  O  nox  ilia !  quae  paene  aetenias  huic  urbi  tenebras  attulisti,  &c. — 

Pro  Flacco,  xli. 

t  At  nox  ilia  quam  iste  est  dies  consecutus,  fausta  huic  urbi, 
misenim  me,  metuo  no  funcsta  nobis.— Pro  Flacco,  xli. 

4 


184 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


securing  the  popularity  of  which  he  was  ambitious 
in  return  for  his  concessions.  At  a  public  show  of 
gladiators,  of  which  he  w^as  himself  the  exhibitor,  he 
was  hissed  by  the  whole  assembly  *.  And  at  the 
dramatic  performances  of  the  Apollinarian  games,  the 
tragedian  Diphilus  was  compelled,  amidst  an  uproar 
of  applause,  to  repeat  over  and  over  again  every 
passage  which  could  be  construed  as  containing  an 
insinuation  against  him.  Cicero,  on  whose  authority 
these  particulars  are  stated,  adds  in  a  subsequent 
letter  to  Atticus : — "  Our  friend,  once  utterly  unaccus- 
tomed to  disgrace,  encountered,  wherever  he  moved, 
by  eulogies,  and  embarked  on  a  sea  of  glory,  now 
wretched  in  appearance,  and  thoroughly  broken  in 
spirit,  knows  not  on  which  side  to  turn — his  advance 
is  impeded  by  a  precipice,  and  to  retreat  would  be 
full  of  danger  and  uncertainty.  The  good  he  has 
rendered  his  enemies,  and  even  the  wicked  are  far 
from  beinor  his  friends.  Such  is  the  tenderness  of  my 
disposition,  that  I  could  not  refrain  from  tears  when, 
on  the  eighth  day  before  the  calends  of  August,  I 
observed  him  haranguing  the  people  respecting  the 
edicts  of  Bibulus.  IJow  humbled  and  degraded  w\as 
the  man  who  was  once  accustomed  to  appear  with 
such  circumstances  of  grandeur  in  that  very  place, 
welcomed  by  the  enthusiastic  affection  of  the  people, 
and  the  favourable  opinions  of  all.  How  little  did 
lie  appear  pleased  with  himself,  not  to  mention  the 
displeasure  which  he  excited  among  his  auditors : 
an  unworthy  spectacle,  grateful  perhaps  to  Crassus, 
but  painful  to  every  one  else ;  since  he  who  was  now 
compelled  to  descend  from  the  starry  height  of  his 
ambition,  instead  of  gently  falling,  appeared  to  have 
been  violently  hurled  from  the  firmament.  As  for 
myself,  if  Apelles  had  beheld  his  Venus,  or  Proto- 
genes  his  famous  Jalysus,  defiled  with  mud,  his  feel- 

»  Ad  Attic,  ii.  19. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  185 

ings  could  not  have  been  more  acute  than  mine,  on 
seeing  one  upon  whom  I  had  formerly  lavished 
the  most  glowing  colours,  and  the  most  artful 
touches  of  my  eloquence,  thus  suddenly  disfigured  '^'." 
Pompey  probably  owed  this  sudden  burst  of  unpopu- 
larity, (which,  however,  notwithstanding  Cicero's  re- 
presentation of  its  universality,  seems  to  have  been 
principally  confined  to  the  upper  and  middle  ranks,) 
as  well  to  the  suspicions  of  the  real  nature  of  the 
triumvirate  which  now  began  to  be  prevalent,  as  to  his 
opposition  of  the  edicts  of  Bibulus  ;  who,  from  his  re- 
tirement, had  issued  a  protest  against  the  Agrarian 
law,  which  he  asserted  to  have  been  passed  under 
unfavourable  auspices,  and  had  ordered  the  consular 
comitia  to  take  place  later  in  the  year  than  usual. 
The  result  was  a  partial  reaction  in  favour  of  the 
aristocracy,  but  this  was  neither  of  any  great  extent 
nor  of  long  continuance  f . 

Cgesar  after  gaining  his  victory  over  Cicero,  did 
not,  by  whatever  motives  he  might  have  been 
actuated,  seem  at  first  willing  to  leave  him  to  its 
full  consequences.  By  virtue  of  a  law  brought 
forward  by  the  tribune  Vatinius,  he  had  been 
invested  with  the  government  of  the  two  Gauls 
and  Illyricum  for  five  years,  and  entrusted  with  the 
command  of  four  legions,  as  the  necessary  contingent 
for  maintaining  peace  in  his  province.     He  now,  from 

*  Ad  Attic,  ii.  21. 
t  It  was  at  this  time  that  Caesar  was  also  suspected  of  having 
contrived  a  kind  of  mock  plot  for  the  purpose  of  raising  the  decay- 
ing credit  of  the  triumvirate,  having  for  its  pretended  object  the 
assassinaiion  of  Pompey. .  The  principal  agent  employed  in  it  was 
Vettius,  already  known  as  an  informer  upon  a  large  scale  after  the 
Catiliuarian  conspiracy.  The  persons  endeavoured  to  be  implicated 
were  the  younger  Curio,  Quintus  Cojpio,  Brutus,  and  Lentulus, 
son  of  the  pontiff.  (Ad  Attic,  ii.  24.)  Vettius,  however,  failed  iu 
substantiating  his  charges,  and  was  soon  afterwards  found  dead  in 
prison,  having  been  either  strangled,  or  poisoned,  according  to  the 
popular  reports,  by  the  secret  orders  of  Csesar. 


186  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

a  feeling  of  generosity^,  as  Cicero  seema  to  have  be- 
lieved, or  rather,  as  it  is  far  more  likely,  from  a  wish 
to  secure  himself  from  all  future  apprehensions  of  op- 
position from  so  gifted  an  antagonist,  by  reducing  him 
to  the  station  of  a  dependant,  offered  to  take  him  as 
his  lieutenant  into  his  government,  and,  by  thus  with- 
drawing him  from  the  city,  to  secure  him  from  the 
resentment  of  Clodius.  Cicero,  however,  thought  it 
best  to  decline  the  offer,  still  resting  upon  the  remem- 
brance of  his  former  services,  his  interest  w4th  the 
senatet,  and,  above  all,  the  fixvour  of  Pompey.  To 
the  latter  support,  indeed,  he  seems  to  have  clung 
with  a  pertinacity  little  short  of  infatuation,  although 
he  w^as  not  without  as  much  ground  for  it,  as  might 
be  comprehended  in  the  solemn  asseverations  of  his 
pretended  patron.  In  one  of  his  letters  written  about 
this  time  to  Atticus,  he  observes: — "I  am  on  the 
highest  terms  of  friendship  and  affection  with  Pompey. 
— Do  you  really  believe  this  ?  you  may  ask.  I  do,  for 
I  am  thoroughly  persuaded  of  his  sincerity.  Clodius 
continues  his  threats  and  denunciations,  but  Pompey 
affirms  that  there  is  no  danger ;  he  even  swears  that 
he  will  sacrifice  his  own  life  rather  than  allow  me  to 
sustain  any  injury  :"  and  again,  in  another  epistle:}: 
t  o  the  same  friend  : — "  Clodius,  at  first  designing 
an  attempt  upon  the  government,  which  is  gene- 
rally detested,  after  a  more  mature  consideration  of 
the  resources  and  military  strength  at  its  command, 
has  now  turned  all  his  fury  upon  me,  threatening 
me  with  open  violence,  as  well  as  a  public  indictment. 
Pompey,  however,  has  pleaded  my  cause  with  him 
most  strenuously,  representing,  as  he  has  himself  in- 
formed me,  (and  I  have  no  other  testimony  on  the 
subject  than  his  own,)  that  he  should  be  liable  to  a 
charge  of  the  basest  perfidy  and  iniquity,  if  he  allowed 
any  danger  to  overtake   me,   from  a  man  whom  he 


I 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


187 


had  himself  provided  with  arms,  by  assisting  him  in 
his  adoption   into   the   plebeian   order ;    reminding 
Clodius  that  he  had  received  a  promise  both  from 
himsalf  and  Appius  not  to  ofifer  me  any  molestation, 
and  assuring  him,  that  if  it  were  broken,  he  would 
so  act  as  to  let  the  whole  world  see  that  he  consi- 
dered nothing  as  having  a  claim  of  longer  standing 
upon  him  than  his  friendship  with  me.     Clodius,  ac- 
cording to  his  representation,  after  he  had  added  much 
more  upon  the  subject,  although  he  at  first  expressed 
himself  as  one  unconvinced,  was  at  length  induced  to 
give  him  his  hand,  and  declare  that  he  would  do  no- 
thing contrary  to  his  inclinations.     But  for  all  this  I 
do  not  find  that  he  has  ceased  from  his  usual  expres- 
sions of  hostility,  neither,  had  he  done   so,   should  I 
have  given  him  credit  for  sincerity,  or  in  any  respect 
relaxed  in  my  preparations  for  defence.     Such  is  my 
present  conduct,  that  the  good  will  of  the  public,  and 
consequently  my  resources  for  the  struggle,  are  increas- 
ing daily.     My  house  is  thronged  with  visitants,  and 
crowds  of  people  run  to  meet  me  in  the  streets — the 
recollections  of  my  consulate  are  reviviag — the  great- 
est zeal  is   shown  in  my  cause;  and  I   am  so  far 
buoyed  up  by  my  hopes,  as  sometimes  to  think  that 
I  have  no  reason  to  decline  the  approaching  combat*." 
In  his  reliance  for  safety  upon  the  assistance  of  his 
friends,  the  memory  of  his  past  services,  and  the  jus- 
tice of  his  quarrel,    he  was  alike  doomed  to  disap- 
pointment.    There  is  but  too  much  reason  for  sup- 
posing, that  Pompey,   so  far  from   being  willing  to 
hazard  any  thing  in  his  favour,  was  actually  betray- 
ing him  to  his  persevering  enemy.     Caesar,  ofiended 
at  his  refusal  of  the  commission  ojffered  him,  and 
determined,  since  he  could  not  take  him  abroad  in 
his  company,  not  to  leave  him  behind  to  counteract 
his  designs  at  Rome,  is  believed  to  have  strenuously 

•  Ad  Attic,  ii.  22.  ~~ 


♦  Ad  Attic,  ii.  19. 


t  Ibid. 


:  Ad  Attic,  ii.  20. 


188  THE   LIFE    OP   CICERO. 

urged  on  Clodius  to  the  attack  he  was  meditating ; 
and  although  he  was  induced,  by  the  prospect  of  an 
unpleasant  inquiry  into  some  parts  of  his  late  conduct 
which  was  on  the  point  of  being  instituted,  to  with- 
draw into  the  suburbs,  under  the  pretence  of  com- 
pleting his  levies  and  making  preparations  for  imme- 
diately setting  out  for  his  province,  he  is  suspected  of 
having  purposely  delayed  his  departure  from  Rome, 
until  the  result  of  the  present  movements  of  his  agent 
should  be  determined.  In  the  mean  time,  Cicero, 
amidst  his  anxious  preparations  against  Clodius,  found 
sufficient  leisure  for  the  production  of  that  inimitable 
epistle  to  his  brother  Quintus,  on  the  extension  of  his 
government  of  Asia  to  the  close  of  another  year,  by 
which  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  his  claims  to  the 
first  rank  as  a  philosopher,  a  moralist,  or  a  statesman, 
are  best  and  most  fully  confirmed.  "Without  any 
unnecessary  flourish  of  rhetoric,  the  beauty  and  apt- 
ness of  expression  habitual  to  his  compositions  are 
observable  in  every  paragraph;  but  the  mere  excel- 
lencies of  lanouao^e  shrink  into  insignificance,  while 
the  reader  is  continually  led  on  to  a  higher  pomt  of 
admiration,  by  the  nobility  of  sentiment,  the  sound- 
ness of  judgment,  and  the  grandeur  of  principle 
which  it  uninterruptedly  exhibits.  No  point  of  im- 
portance in  the  administration  of  a  province  is  left 
without  comment,  in  this  brief  but  comprehensive 
manual  of  government,  in  which  the  just  and  incon- 
trovertible proposition  is  fully  acknowledged,  that 
power,  wherever  surrendered  to  any  individual,  is 
given  merely  in  trust,  and  as  an  instrument  of  in- 
creasing, not  the  means  of  enjoyment  of  one,  but  the 
happiness  of  all.  Even  the  right  of  taxation 
assumed  by  the  Roman  government,  instead  of  being 
claimed  on  the  ground  of  conquest,  is  represented  as 
based  on  the  safeguard  affi)rded  by  its  protection  from 
the  capricious  tyranny  which  formerly  disgraced  the 


i 


THE   LIFE  OF  CICERO.  189 

annals  of  Asia,  and  the  security  held  out  by  its 
victorious  arms  from  more  barbarous  invaders.  The 
sophistry  contained  in  this  argument,  which  has 
been  preserved  to  much  later  times,  is,  indeed,  easily 
overthrown;  but  it  must  be  acknowledged  to  be  the 
sophistry  of  an  age  considerably  advanced  towards  a 
due  appreciation  of  the  great  principles  of  equity,  and 
no  longer  daring  to  trifle  with  the  considerations  of 
right  and  wrong  in  the  brutal  exultation  of  its 
superiority  in  physical  strengtli.  The  afi*ectionate 
earnestness  and  sobriety  for  which  the  epistle  is  re- 
markable, are  not  among  its  least  interesting  features, 
nor  the  absence  of  all  flattery  from  its  honest  yet 
friendly  exhortations;  since  Quintus,  although  due 
praise  is  bestowed  upon  the  rest  of  his  conduct,  is 
freely  and  unhesitatingly  warned  against  that  irrita- 
bility, which,  although  accompanied  with  much 
which  was  excellent,  seems  in  him  to  have  been  a 
frequent  failing.  No  advice  is  spared  in  cautioning 
him  on  the  subject  of  this  important  defect,  and  the 
remarks  as  to  the  best  means  of  overcoming  his  hasty 
temperament,  are  distinguished  by  the  soundest  prac- 
tical sense*.     Quintus  is  finally  exhorted  by  every 

*  The  counsel  given  is  as  follows  : — *•  It  is  not  now  my  object 
suddenly  to  root  out  a  fixed  habit,  an  undertaking  difficult  at  all 
times,  whatever  be  the  disposition,  and,  more  especially,  at  an  age 
like  ours.  This,  however,  is  my  advice,  that  if  you  cannot  altogether 
avoid  this  failing,  (and  I  know  that  the  action  of  passion  is  sometimes 
too  rapid  upon  the  mind  to  allow  of  the  anticipation  or  prevention 
of  reason,)  you  -will,  at  least,  make  preparations  against  it  before- 
hand, and  daily  meditate  upon  the  propriety  and  necessity  of 
restraining  it,  reflecting,  that  at  the  moment  when  your  mind  is 
most  excited,  it  is  most  important  to  refrain  from  giving  utterance 
to  your  feelings  ;  a  virtue  which  appears  to  me  not  less  than  never 
being  conscious  of  the  emotion  in  question.  The  latter,  as  it  is  the 
property  of  a  sober,  is  also,  at  times,  that  of  a  mere  sluggish  dispo- 
sition ;  but  to  moderate  both  one's  sentiments  and  their  expression 
when  angry,  or,  what  is  more,  to  keep  absolute  silence,  and  to  hold 
under  one's  control  both  indignation  and  disappointment,  although 
ii  docs  not  teach  the  height  of  absolute  wisdom,  makes,  at  least,  no 
mean  advances  towards  it." — Ad  Quint,  i.  1. 


190 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


argument  likely  to  have  weight  with  his  own  con- 
sciousness of  the  importance  of  the  duties  required  of 
him,  or  with  his  regard  for  his  reputation,  to  be 
studious  in  his  endeavours  to  render  the  last  year  of 
his  administration  still  more  conspicuous  for  benefits 
conferred  upon  his  province,  than  the  two  which  had 
preceded  it. — "Let  it  be  the  object,  I  beseech  you," 
concludes  his  correspondent,  "of  your  most  strenuous 
and  unremitted  exertions,  since  Asia  maybe  considered 
as  a  vast  theatre  crowded  with  spectators  of  the  most 
refined  judgment,  and  so  constructed,  that  whatever 
is  spoken  there,  finds  an  immediate  echo  at  Rome, 
not  only  to  appear  worthy  of  such  a  stage  and  such 
an  audience,  but  to  make  both  seem  inferior  to  the 
display  of  your  merits.  It  is  my  earnest  prayer  and 
exhortation,  that,  following  the  example  of  the  best 
poets  and  performers,  you  will  be  most  anxious,  as 
the  close  of  your  office  draws  on,  to  make  the  third 
year  of  your  administration,  like  the  third  act  of  a 
drama — the  most  perfect  and  best  deserving  of  admir- 
ation. And  this  you  will  easily  accomplish,  if,  in 
imagination,  you  depict  me,  whose  single  approbation  I 
am  confident  you  value  above  that  of  all  the  world  be- 
sides, as  constantly  at  your  side,  and  taking  an  anxious 
interest  in  everything  you  do  or  say." 

The  attention  of  Rome  was  now  earnestly  fixed 
upon  the  opening  scenes  of  the  tribuneship  of  Clodius. 
Without  disguise,  and  without  hesitation,  this  fearless 
innovator  brought  forward,  in  rapid  succession,  four 
acts,  each  involving  a  considerable  change,  and  two  of 
them  alterations  of  great  importance  in  the  govern- 
ment. A  gratuitous  distribution  of  com  to  the 
people — a  prohibition  of  the  ceremony  of  taking  the 
auspices  at  the  meeting  of  assemblies  of  the  people,  a 
custom  which  might  almost  be  considered  the  key- 
stone  of  their  power  to  the  aristocratic  party* — a 

*  This  Has  provi.Icd  by  the  Lex  ^Elia  de  Comitiis,  which,  as  well 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO.  191 

• 

limitation  of  the  authority  of  the  censors,  by  forbid- 
ding either  of  them  to  place  a  mark  of  ignominy 
upon  any  one  without  the  concurrence  of  his  col- 
league, or  to  inflict  this  punishment  upon  citizens  who 
had  not  been  formally  accused  before  them,  and  con- 
demned after  a  fair  trial — and,  lastly,  the  restoration 
of  a  number  of  corrupt  guilds,  or  <;ivic  fraternities, 
which  had  been  abolished  by  the  senate,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  instituting  others  in  their  place,  were  the  prin- 
cipal subjects  embraced  by  these  first  enactments;  in 
which,  with  the  exception  of  the  last,  there  does  not  ap- 
pear much  deserving  of  very  serious  censure,  although 
they  were  no  doubt  intended  to  bo  introductory  to  the 
blow  which  was  to  effect  the  ruin  of  Cicero.  His  next 
movement  was  to  propose  decreeing  the  provinces  of 
Syria,  Babylonia,  and  Persia,  with  the  power  of  com- 
mencing a  Parthian  war,  w4iich  would  have  afforded  an 
extensive  field  for  peculation  and  plunder,  to  Gabinius; 
and  Macedonia,  with  Achaia,  Thessaly,  and  Boeotia, 
to  Piso.  All  things  being  now  ready  for  his  ulterior 
desion — the  triumviri  having  been  alienated  from  the 
object  of  his  resentment— the  senate  terrified  into 
inaction — the  favour  of  the  consuls  secured  by  pros- 
pect of  the  rich  provinces  held  out  to  them — and  the 

as  the  Lex  Fufia,  Clodius,  either  at  this  time,  or  shortly  afterwards, 
formally  repealed.  The  former,  brought  forward  by  the  consul 
Quintus  ^lius  Foetus,  a.u.c.  587,  not  only  decreed,  that  the  oc- 
currence of  an  unfavourable  omen,  if  reported  by  a  magistrate, 
should  be  sufficient  to  stop  the  proceedings  of  the  assemblies,  but 
that  the  intercession,  although  without  the  assignment  of  a  reason, 
of  any  magistrate  of  equal  rank  with  the  one  who  was  piesiding,  or 
even  of  a  tribune,  should  have  the  same  effect.  The  Lex  Fufia, 
A.u.c.  618,  limited  the  number  of  days  on  which  laws  were 
previously  allowed  to  be  passed.  Dio  (xxxviii.  13,)  relates  that 
Cicero  had  at  first  resolved  to  oppose  the  acts,  and  for  that  purjjose 
had  engaged  the  tribune  Ninius  to  place  his  veto  upon  them  ;  but 
that  he  was  prevented  by  the  arcifices  of  Clodius,  who  protested 
that  he  had  no  ulterior  design  against  him  in  bringing  them  forward. 
No  allusion  to  the  circumstance,  however,  is  to  be  found  where  it 
might  be  most  expected,  in  the  correspondence  of  Cicero  himself. 


192 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


common  people  devoted  to  their  leaders  by  the  laws 
proposed  for  their  benefit,  Clodius  at  length  promul- 
gated his  famous  act,  that  whosoever  was  proved  to 
have  put  to  death  a  Roman  citizen  without  form  of 
law,  should  be  interdicted  from  fire  and  water,  or,  in 
other  words,  permanently  banished  from  Italy. 

Although  Cicero  might  .  have  been  supposed  by 
this  time  to  be  fully  armed  against  an  event  which 
he  had  long  contemplated  as  possible,  and  latterly,  as 
exceedingly  likely  to  happen,  the  appearance  of  the 
statute  in  question,  seems  to  have  fallen  upon  him  like 
a  thunderbolt.  His  fortitude,  his  philosophy,  his 
sense  of  his  owti  dignity,  almost  his  very  reason, 
forsook  him  at  once.  Stunned  by  the  sense  of 
calamity,  borne  down  by  apprehension,  and,  in  the 
extremity  of  his  distress,  not  knowing  to  whom  to 
appeal,  he  was  now  subject  to  all  the  bitterness  and 
anguish,  which  that  individual  may  be  supposed  to 
experience,  who  has  neither  courage  to  defy  misfor- 
tune, nor  patience  to  endure  it.  In  his  humiliation 
lie,  however,  was  far  from  being  deserted.  No  less 
than  twenty  thousand  of  the  patrician  and  equestrian 
order,  headed  by  Publius  the  son  of  Crassus,  an  army 
of  suppliants  who  might  have  been  changed  into  one 
of  effective  defenders,  if  they  had  been  possessed  of  a 
resolute  leader,  at  once  assumed  the  garb  of  mourning. 
A  vast  number  of  these  assembled  in  the  Capitol,  and 
resolved  to  send  a  formal  deputation  from  thence  to 
appeal  to  the  senate  in  his  favour.  At  a  meeting  of 
tliat  assembly  held  in  the  temple  of  Concord,  the  whole 
order  entreated  Gabinius,  with  tears  and  vehement 
supplications,  to  interpose  in  his  behalf,  and  on  receiv- 
ing in  reply  nothing  but  contemptuous  answers  and 
sarcastic  remarks,  resolved,  on  the  motion  of  the  tribune 
Ninius,  and  in  spite  of  the  prohibition  of  the  consuls, 
at  least  to  testify  their  sympathy  with  the  subject  of 
their  useless  intercession,  by  putting  on  mourning  vests. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  193 

Many  among  the  knights  and  middle  ranks  even 
gave  indications  that  they  were  ready  to  arm,  and  resist 
the  passing  of  the  law  by  open  force.  But  Cicero,  who 
had  been  advised  by  Cato,  and  Hortensius,  as  well 
as  Atticus,  who  had  lately  joined  him  at  Rome,  to 
submit  to  all  extremities  rather  than  convulse  the 
state  by  a  contest,  mischievous  under  any  circum- 
stances, but  rendered  entirely  hopeless  by  the  pre- 
sence of  the  legions  forming  under  the  command  of 
Caesar  in  the  suburbs,  chose  rather  to  continue  his 
efibrts  to  soften  his  adversaries  by  supplications  and 
submissions.  In  accordance  with  this  plan,  he  con- 
descended, with  his  son-in-law,  to  wait  upon  the 
consul  Piso,  and  humbly  to  entreat  him  to  exert 
himself  in  his  behalf  with  his  colleague  and  the 
people ;  but  in  this  application  he  was  compelled  to 
submit  to  a  mortifying  repulse.  He  was  informed 
that  Gabinius,  who  was  in  the  most  necessitous  cir- 
cumstances, from  which  he  could  only  hope  to  extri- 
cate himself  by  the  government  of  some  lucrative 
province,  having  no  expectation  of  any  such  appoint- 
ment from  the  senate,  was  obliged  to  unite  himself 
in  close  alliance  with  Clodius;  and  Piso  further 
added,  that,  for  his  own  part,  he  was  obliged  to  yield 
in  many  respects  to  his  partner  in  office,  as  Cicero, 
during  his  consulate,  had  formerly  done  to  Antonius; 
that  there  was  no  need,  in  the  present  instance,  of  the 
patronage  of  any  individual,  but  that  every  one 
ought  to  take  care  of  himself,  and  must  submit  to 
stand  or  fall  by  his  own  merits*. 

*  Cicero,  (In  Pis.  vi. )  who  had  good  reason  to  remember  the  in- 
terview, and  who  did  not  spare  Piso  on  account  of  the  reminiscences 
f-onnected  wth  it  afterwards,  has  drawn  a  most  undignified  picture 
of  the  consul  on  this  occasion,  stating  that  he  found  him  in  one  of 
the  lowest  haunts  of  Rome,  in  which  he  had  spent  the  previous 
night  in  drinking,  with  slippers  on  his  feet  and  his  head  muffled  up. 
He  also  sneeringly  relates,  that  Piso,  a«  an  excuse  for  his  situation, 
informed  him,  that  on  account  of  his  ill  health  he  was  obliged  to 

O 


194 


TTIfi   LIFE  Of  CICERO. 


The  general  assembly  for  determining  the  law  of 
Clodius  respecting  the  arbitrary  infliction  of  capital 
punishment,  was  at  length  convened  in  the  Flaminian 
Circus.  The  tribune,  according  to  Cicero,  had  art- 
fully summoned  to  the  spot  the  most  zealous  of  the 
partisans  of  Cicero,  under  pretence  of  compelling  them 
to  give  an  account  of  theirlate  conduct.  No  sooner  had 
they  appeared,  however,  than  the  banditti  who  sur- 
rounded him,  and  who  had  been  previously  instructed 
how  to  act,  first  saluted  them  with  a  shower  of  stones 
and  then  fell  upon  them  with  drawn  swords,  severely 
wounding  many,  and  compelling  the  rest  to  a  preci- 
pitate flight.  Hortensius,  who  was  among  the 
fugitives,  was  nearly  killed  in  the  tumult,  and 
Vibienus,  a  senator,  either  slain  upon  the  spot,  or 
carried  mortally  injured  ofl*  the  ground.  After  this 
seasonable  intimation  of  his  superior  strength,  Clo- 
dius opened  the  business  of  the  meeting  by  asking 
the  sentiments  of  the  consuls  upon  the  subject  of  his 
act.  Gabinius  answered,  that  he  had  always  utterly 
disapproved  of  putting  citizens  to  death  without  trial, 
and  Piso,  that  he  was  averse  to  every  instance  of 
cruelty.  Caesar,  who  by  the  selection  of  the  place  of 
meeting  was  privileged  to  be  present,  on  being  next 
desired  to  express  his  opinion,  stated  that  his  views 
on  the  subject  of  capital  punishment  were  already 
sufficiently  known  ;  that  he  approved  of  the  statute,  if 
intended  to  possess  a  prospective  force,  but  that  he  was 
unwilling  to  consent  to  any  ex  post  facto  law,  bearing 
reference  to  an  event  on  which  it  was  now  superfluous 
to  legislate.  On  receiving  this  declaration,  which, 
while  it  was  apparently  neutral,  gave,  in  reality,  no 
small  weight  to  passing  the  edict,  the  centuries  pro- 
ceeded to  their  votes,  and  the  requisition  of  Clodius 
speedily  received  the  stamp  of  the  popular  assent.  The 

have  recourse  to  wine  medicinally,  and  bitterly  inyeighs  against 
him  for  keeping  him  standing,  during  the  coDferenre,.in  the  filthy 
den  to  vhich  he  had  been  introduced. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


195 


taw,  however,  was  as  yet  only  general,  and  Cicero,  if 
he  had  thought  proper,  might  still  have  waited  for  its 
result  in  the  shape  of  a  particular  indictment,  after 
which  there  would  have  been  ample  time  to  forestall 
an  unfavourable  sentence  by  voluntary  exile.  Accord- 
ingly he  seems  to  have  hesitated  for  some  days 
between  hope  and  despair,  at  one  time  entertaining  the 
resolution  of  lingering  to  the  last,  in  the  expectation 
of  some  change  in  the  sentiments  of  the  community ; 
at  another  so  far  prostrated  by  the  melancholy  pro- 
spect before  him,  as  to  entertain  serious  thoiights  of 
self-destruction.  With  his  usual  train  of  mournful 
attendants,  and  with  the  squalid  aspect  and  disor- 
dered dress  which  he  imagined  suitable  to  his  situ- 
ation, he  continued  to  appear  in  public,  endeavouring, 
by  these  outward  signs  of  distress,  to  move  his  country- 
men to  compassion  ;  and,  to  add  to  his  mortification, 
being  frequently  obliged  to  encounter  the  stones  as 
well  as  the  taunts  of  Clodius  and  his  faction,  who 
were  parading  the  streets  in  insolent  triumph.  His 
chief  reliance  was  still  upon  Pompey ;  and  finding  that 
his  supposed  protector,  who  had  now  withdrawn  to 
his  Alban  villa,  pretending  fear  of  a  design  upon  his  life 
of  which  he  had  received  secret  intimation,  made  no 
demonstration  of  interfering  in  his  favour,  although 
he  had  been  appealed  to  upon  the  subject  by  the 
chief  persons  among  the  nobility,  he  resolved  upon 
ascertaining  how  much  he  had  to  hope  from  that 
quarter  by  a  personal  interview.  He  had  sufficient 
reason  to  be  convinced,  by  the  result  of  the  conference, 
how  little  the  promises  made  to  him  by  his  faithless 
patron,  a  few  weeks  before,  were  to  be  relied  upon. 
Although  he  prostrated  himself  at  the  feet  of  Pompey, 
and  earnestly  entreated  him,  at  this  perilous  juncture, 
to  fulfil  the  engagements  into  which  he  had  entered  for 
his  safety,  he  was  scarcely  desired  to  rise,  and  was 
simply  met  by  the  reply,  that  nothing  could  be  done 

o2 


1S6 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


for  him  contrary  to  the  will  of  Caesar*.  His  friends 
had  been,  in  the  mean  time,  busy  in  making  a  second 
appeal  to  the  consuls,  but  Piso  again  assured  them 
that  neither  he  nor  his  son-in-law  Caesar  t  could 
venture  to  oppose  Clodius,  while  Gabinius  treated 
their  intercession  with  his  usual  insolence. 

All  expectation   of  succour  being  now  at  an  end ; 
his  submission  having  but  tended  to  degrade  him  in 
the  eyes  of  others,  and  perhaps  in  his  own  ;  and  the 
only  alternative   to  ensure  his  remaining  being  that 
of  plunging  Rome  into  confusion  and  bloodshed ;  he  at 
length  summoned  firmness  enough  to  tear  himself 
from  a  city  whose  aspect  was  connected  with  so  many 
pleasing  recollections,  of  which  he  had  been  declared 
the  father  and  preserver,  and  where  he  left  every- 
thing  dear    to    one    of  his   temperament — honour, 
applause,  distinction, — the  arena  in  which  his  elo- 
quence had  so  often  been    exercised — the   place  of 
council,  in  which  his  opinions  had  been  so  earnestly 
sought  and  so  reverently  received — the  crowds  over 
whom,  in  the  pride  of  genius,  he  had  delighted  to 
exert   his  influence, — his  retainers,  his  friends,  and 
those  who  were  connected  with  him  by  yet  dearer  ties. 
His  last  public  act  before  his  departure  was  to  ascend 
the  Capitoline  Hill,  looking  down  upon  his  favourite 
Forum,  with  a  small  image  of  the  tutelary  Goddess 
of  Wisdom,  which  he  had  long  kept  in  his  house 
with  great  reverence,  in  his  arms,  in  order  solemnly  to 
consecrate   it   in   the  temple    at   the  summit,  with 
this  inscription,  to  minerva  the  protectress  op 
ROME.     He  then  returned  to  his  house,  and  after  wait- 
ing until  nightfall,  left  the  city  in  company  with  an 
immense  concourse  of  his  friends,  who  intended  to  accom  - 


*  Ad  Attic.  X.  4. 

f  Caesar  had  lately  married  bid  secoud  wife.Calpurnia,  the  daughter 
of  Piso. 


THE   LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


197 


panyhim  on  his  road  to  a  distance  of  two  days' journey. 
Regretted  by  all  the  good,  and  lamented  by  the  only 
party  whose  approbation  was  worth  possessing; 
retiring,  moreover,  under  circumstances  from  which 
the  least  gifted  with  foresight  might  have  augured 
his  recal  at  no  distant  period ;  he  carried  with  him 
into  exile  every  alleviation  of  such  a  misfortune, 
except  that  firmness  of  spirit  which  was  worth  the 
whole,  and  without  which  no  form  of  consolation 
could  be  availing. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Cicero  forbidden  to  enter  Sicily  by  the  Praetor  Caius  Virgiliue— 
He  receives  Intelligence  at  Vibo  of  the  Decrees  sanctioning  his 
Exile — His  Estates  are  plundered,  and  liis  House  at  Ronie 
rased  to  the  ground  by  Clodius — Cato  is  sent  on  a  Foreign 
Commission  to  Cyprus — Cicero  at  Tarentum — Ho  proceeds  to 
Brundusium  and  embarks  for  Epirus — Repairs  to  Thessaloni- 
ca — Letters  to  Terentia,  and  to  Atticus — Riots  excited  by 
Clodius  at  Rome — His  Attack  upon  Quintus  Cicero  and  the 
Tribunes  in  the  Forum— Milo  arms  a  Body  of  Gladiators  against 
him — Skirmishes  between  the  Two  Parties  -  Decree  of  the 
Senate  summoning  all  Freemen  in  the  Interests  of  Cicero  to 
Rome — He  is  recalled — Sets  out  fi-om  Epirus  and  disembarks  at 
Brundusium,  where  he  is  met  by  his  daughter  Tullia — ^His 
Triumphant  Progress  through  Italy,  and  Favourable  Reception  at 
the  Capital. 

Sicily,  where,  from  the  recollection  of  his  past 
services,  he  naturally  expected  to  find  a  welcome 
reception  and  a  secure  retreat,  was  the  place  which 
,  Cicero  first  selected  as  the  scene  of  his  banishment,  and 
towards  which,  after  leaving  the  capital,  he  pro- 
ceeded by  slow  journeys.  He  is  supposed,  on  conclu- 
sive evidence,  to  have  quitted  Rome  towards  the 
end  of  the  month  of  March  A.  u.  c.  696  * ;  and 
early  in  April  to  have  reached  Naryx,  an  ancient 

*  This  is  rendered  almost  certain  by  the  fact,  that  Caesar,  who, 
by  his  own  account,  hindered  the  Helvetii  from  making  their  ap. 


198 


THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO. 


city  of  the  Locrians  in  Magna  Graecia.  That  the 
feelings  of  despair  were  yet  strong  upon  him  is  mani- 
fest from  liis  epistle  to  Atticus,  written  from  this 
place,  which  affords  a  lamentable  testimony  to  his 
weakness,  and  utter  prostration  of  mind  : — 

"  Cicero  sends  health  to  Atticus.  I  wish  I  may 
see  the  day  when  I  shall  have  reason  to  thank  you 
for  having  induced  me  to  spare  my  own  life.  At 
the  present  moment,  bitterly,  my  friend,  do  I  repent 
of  that  resolution.  Hasten  immediately,  I  entreat 
you,  to  meet  me  at  Vibo,  whither,  for  many  reasons, 
I  have  determined  upon  journeying.  If  you  join  me 
there,  we  may  consult  together  upon  the  future  steps 
to  be  taken  with  respect  to  my  retreat.  If  you  do 
not  comply  with  my  request,  I  shall  find  it  difficult 
to  account  for  your  absence.  But  I  confidently 
expect  you  will  not  disappoint  my  expectations*." 

From  Naryx  his  next  removal  was  towards  the 
city  mentioned  in  his  letter,  which  was  situated  in 
Lucania,  and  near  the  sea-coast.  In  its  vicinity  he 
was  entertained  for  a  short  time  at  the  farm  of  Sica, 
according  to  his  own  account,  or  according  to  that 
of  Plutarch,  at  a  house  assigned  him  by  a  Sicilian 
named  Vibiust,  on  whom  he  had  formerly  conferred 
many  marks  of  kindness.  But  while  waiting  for 
an  opportunity  of  embarking  for  Sicily,  he  was  met 
by  a  notice  from  Caius  Virgilius,  then  praetor  of  the 
island,  that  he  would  by  no  means  suffer  him  to  set 
foot   in  his  province.     This  was  an  instance  of  in- 

pointed  movement,  which  was  to  have  commenced  the  5th  of  the 
Kalends  of  April,  (the  26th  of  March,)  in  this  year  ;  and  who, 
after  eight  days*  jounrey,  reached  his  province  time  enough  to 
appoint  a  meeting  with  their  chiefs  for  the  13th  of  the  ensuing 
month,  did  not  quit  Rome  until  Cicero  had  departed  from  the  city. 
-De  Bello  Gall   lib.  i. ;  Fasti  Hellenici,  iu.  p.  185. 

*  Ad  Attic,  iii.  3. 

t  It  is  not  impossible  to  reconcile  the  two  statements.  These 
persuDB  might  have  been  his  hosts  in  sucessioD. 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO.  199 

gratitude  which  he  had  not  expected,  since  Virgilius 
had  on  former  occasions  been  laid  under  repeated 
obligations  by  his  patronage  and  assistance. 

He  now  hesitated  between  the  projects  of  em- 
barking at  Brundusium  for  Greece,  or  retiring  to  the 
island  of  Malta  ;  and  while  meditating  upon  these 
different  plans,  received  the  news  of  his  sentence, 
and  its  subsequent  extension. 

Clodius,  on  being  informed  of  his  departure  from 
the  city,  had  not  lost  a  moment  in  following  up  the 
opportunity  afforded  by  his  flight,  which  he  con- 
strued as  an  acknowledgment  of  his  weakness,  and 
that  of  his  party,  for  framing,  on  the  base  of  his 
late  edict,  a  particular  rogation  or  law,  which  he 
expected  would  permanently  prevent  the  possibility 
of  a  return  of  his  adversary  to  disquiet  him  at  Rome. 
The  decree  proposed  on  this  subject  to  the  people, 
which  he  found  no  difficulty  in  carrying,  seems  to  have 
been  nearly  as  follows :  — 

"  Whereas  Marcus  Tullius  Cicero  has,  without  hear- 
ing or  form  of  trial,  put  to  death  certain  Roman 
citizens,  and  for  that  purpose  forged  the  decree  and 
authority  of  the  senate  ;  be  it  with  your  will  and 
command,  Quirites,  that  he  be  interdicted  from  the 
use  of  fire  and  water ;  that  no  one  presume  to  har- 
bour or  receive  him  on  pain  of  death  ;  and  that 
whosoever  shall  make  any  motion,  give  any  vote,  or 
assist  in  any  way  whatever  towards  his  return,  shall 
be  considered  a  public  enemy,  unless  those  whom 
Cicero  has  unjustly  deprived  of  life  be  previously 
recalled  from  the  dead*." 

This  edict,  however  severe  and  arbitrary,  was  not 
sufficient  to  satisfy  the  hatred  of  Clodius.  An  addi- 
tional clause  extended  the  interdiction  to  all  places 
within  four  hundred  miles  of  Italy,  and  ordained 
that  the  goods  of  Cicero  should  be  exposed  to  public 
auction.    An  indiscriminate  spoliation  of  his  property 

♦  Pro  Domo  »nk. 


200 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


was,  upon  this  signal,  immediately  commenced. 
Clodius,  after  stripping  it  of  every  thing  valuable,  set 
fire  to  his  noble  house  upon  the  Palatine  Mount,  and 
consecrated  part  of  the  site,  on  which  he  afterwards 
erected  a  temple  to  Liberty.  The  villas  which 
Cicero  had  taken  so  much  pain  to  embellish,  and 
where  he  had  collected  so  many  exquisite  works  of 
art,  were  in  the  same  manner  successively  plundered 
and  set  on  fire.  In  the  appropriation  of  the  spoils 
derived  from  these  sources,  the  two  consuls  appear 
to  have  come  in  for  the  lion's  share.  The  marble 
columns  of  his  Palatine  house  were  bestowed  upon 
the  father-in  -law  of  Piso*.  The  rich  furniture  of  his 
country-seat  at  Tu senium,  and  even  the  very  trees  in 
the  orchards,  were  carried  off,  by  the  command  of 
Gabinius.  His  wife  Terentia  was  forcibly  dragged 
from  the  temple  of  Vesta,  in  which  she  had  taken 
sanctuary,  by  order  of  Clodius,  on  pretence  of  ex- 
amining her  as  to  the  amount  of  the  effects  of  her 
husbandf.  The  tribune  even  endeavoured  to  get 
possession  of  the.person  of  her  son,  with  an  intention 
of  putting  him  to  death,  and  would  have  effected 
his  purpose,  had  not  the  child  been  carefully  con- 
cealed from  the  effects  of  his  malice  J.  Amidst  these 
infamous  proceedings,  the  consuls,  now  further 
elated  by  the  grant  of  the  provinces  of  which  they 
were  in  expectation,  celebrated  their  triumph  with 
the  most  indecent  revelry.  The  real  motives  by 
which  they  had  been  influenced,  and  the  true  party 
to  which  they  belonged,  began  plainly  to  appear. 
Piso,  thrown  off  his  guard  by  the  exultation  of 
success,  openly  boasted  of  his  relationship  to  Cethe- 
gus  ;  and  Gabinius,  not  to  be  behind  his  colleague, 
asserted,  with  equal  affrontery,  that  he  had  always 
been  on  the  most  friendly  terms  with  Catiline§. 


•  Pro  Dom.  xxiv. 
X  Pro  Dom.  xxiii. 


t  Ad  Diversos,  xiv.  2. 

§  Pro  Doui.  xxiv. ;    Pro  Sextio,  xxiv. 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


201 


Cato,  the  only  man  whose  courage,  authority,  and 
independent  spirit,  seemed  likely  to  oppose  a  barrier 
to  the  proceedings  of  these  licentious  anarchists,  was 
shortly  afterwards,  by  a  refined  stroke  of  policy  on 
the  part  of  Clodius,  removed   to  a  distance   by  a 
public  appointment*.      Ptolemy,  king   of  Cyprus, 
having  formerly  refused  to  advance  a  sum  of  money 
for  his  ransom  when  he  had  been  captured  by  the 
pirates  near  his  coasts,  he  now  eagerly  availed  him- 
self of  the  short-lived  power  placed  in  his  hands  by 
his  influence  with  the  nmltitude,  to  avenge  himself 
upon  that  monarch,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  remove 
the  most  stubborn   of  his  opponents  from  his  path, 
by  procuring  for  him  the  office  of  reducing  Cyprus 
to  a  Roman  province.     In  an  interview  with  Cato 
upon  this  subject,  he  endeavoured  to  represent  him- 
self as  conferring  a  great  favour  upon  him  by  the 
commission,  for  which  he  assured  him  he  had  received 
many  applications.      Cato,   without  being  deceived 
as  to  his  real  object,  or  appearing  to  be  so,  upbraided 
him,  with   his  usual  severity,  for  his  past  conduct, 
and  ended  by  positively  refusing  to  accept  the  office 
proposed  to  him.   "  It  is  indifferent, "  said  his  auda- 
cious visitor ;  "  if  it  suits  not  with  your  pleasure  to 
go,  it  is  perfectly  suitable  witb  mineto  compel  you." 
And  immediately,   having   recourse   to    one    of  his 
popular    assemblies,    he    procured    the    iniquitous 
decree,    wresting  the   island   from   the  monarch  to 

*  Plutaroh,  whose  accuracy  with  respect  to  dates  is  never  greatly 
to  be  relied  upon,  seems  to  represent,  in  his  life  of  Cato,  that  he 
had  left  Rome  to  fulfil  his  commission  at  Cyprus  before  the  de- 
parture of  Cicero  from  it.  Yet  it  is  much  more  likely  that  he 
continued  in  the  city  for  some  time  after  that  event.  *'  M.  Cato 
etiam  cum  desper^set  aliquid  auctoritate  su^  profici  posse,  tamen 
voce  ipsa  ac  dolore  pugnavit,  et  post  meum  discessum  iis  Pisonem 
verbis,  flens  meum  et  reipublica;  casum,  vexavit,  ut  ilium  hominem 
perditissimum  et  impudentissimum  pane  jam  provincise  pceniteret. 
See  also  Fasti  Hellenici,  vol.  iii.  p.  184. 


202 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


whom  it  belonged,  and  conferring  the  task  of  set- 
tling it  iu  its  new  condition  upon  Cato,  who  was 
obliged  forthwith  to  sail  upon  his  obnoxious  errand. 

Cicero  was  now  pursuing  his  way  towards  Brun- 
dusium.  On  the  1  Ith  of  April  he  was  at  Thurium, 
and  on  the  18th  at  Tarentum.  On  the  8th  of  that 
month  he  wrote  to  Atticus,  dating  his  letter  from  the 
confines  of  Lucania,  in  a  strain  which  showed  that 
his  sense  of  his  misfortune  was  in  no  respect  abated. 
A  second  letter,  in  which  he  explains  the  reason  of 
his  having  quitted  Vibo  before  his  proposed  inter- 
view with  Atticus,  is  equally  desponding  : — "Attri- 
bute it  not "  he  writes,  "  to  any  inconstancy  of 
purpose,  but  to  my  present  miseries,  that  I  have 
suddenly  departed  from  Vibo,  where  I  had  directed 
you  to  meet  me.  I  have  received  the  sentence  of  my 
utter  destruction,  in  which  I  find  the  alterations  I 
had  been  led  to  expect,  prohibiting  me  from  appear- 
ing within  four  hundred  miles  of  Italy.  Finding, 
therefore,  that  it  was  not  allowed  me  to  proceed  to 
Vibo,  I  immediately  determined  upon  setting  out 
for  Brundusium,  in  order  to  reach  that  place  before 
the  day  of  passing  the  law*,  both  that  I  might  avert 
the  destruction  of  my  host  Sica,  and  because  the 
island  of  Malta  is  within  the  proscribed  distance. 
Hasten  to  overtake  me,  if  indeed  I  can  find  a  recep- 
tion where  I  am  going.  I  have  hitherto  received 
nothing  but  kind  invitations,  but  I  shudder  at  the 
future.  Great  is  my  regret,  my  Pomponius,  that  I 
have  not  ended  my  existence.  That  I  have  refrained 
from  doing  so,  has  been  chiefly  owing  to  your 
influence.  But  of  this  more  when  we  meet.  Only 
delay  not  to  comet." 

At  Brundusium,  as  well  as  on  his  way  thither, 
he   was  treated,   notwithstanding  the  edict   against 

*  It  will  be  remembered  that  a  certain  time  always  intervened 
between  the  promulgation  and  the  passing  of  a  law. 
f  Ad  Attic,  ill.  4. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  203 

receiving   him    with    such    marks    of    respect    as 
might    have   rendered    almost    any   one    but   him- 
self proud  of  a  misfortune  in  which  multitudes  ap- 
peared to  sympathise.     On  his  arrival  at  the  above 
city,  he  seems  to  have  been  in  considerable  doubt 
as  to  his  future  course.     Athens  or  its  neighbour- 
hood   would,  no  doubt,  have  been    selected  as  the 
most    desirable  place  of  resort ;    but   that   part   of 
Greece   was   the   residence   of  several  persons  who 
had  been  banished  from  Rome  for  their  share  in  the 
conspiracy  of  Catiline,  and  whose  vicinity  naturally 
appeared  replete  with  peril  to  the  chief  agent  in  pro- 
curing their  exile.  Macedonia  and  the  adjacent  districts 
would  shortly  be  thronged  with  the  soldiery  of  the 
consul  Piso,  who  had  been  appointed  to  that  pro- 
vince, and  at  their  hands  nothing  was  to  be  expected 
but  insult  and  violence.    In  this  perplexity,  he  seems 
at  one  time  to  have  thought  of  retiring  to  Cyzicuni 
in   the  Propontis;    but  he  was   probably  diverted 
from  this  intention  by  his  friend  Atticus,  who  wrote 
to  him  with  the  offer  of  a  residence  in  Epirus,  which 
was  so  situated  as,  if  necessary,  to  be  convertible 
into  a  strong  post  of  defence.     Apparently  still  hesi- 
tating in  his  choice  of  a  retreat,  he  took  leave  of  his 
friend  Marcus  Lenius  Flaccus,  in  whose  country-seat 
without  the  walls  he  had  been  entertained  thirteen 
days,  and  after  writing  a  piteous  letter  to  Terentia, 
embarked  for  Dyrrachium  *,    on   the   last  day  of 
April.     He  was  encountered,  according  to  Plutarch, 
by  a  violent  storm  on  his  passage,  which  forced  his 
vessel  to  put  back  into  the  harbour  of  Brundusium ; 
but  on  putting  out  to  sea  a  second  time,  he  was  suc- 
cessful in  reaching  the  destined  port.   On  the  instant 
of  his  landing,  if  credit  is  to  be  given  to  the  same 
biographer,  the  country  was  shaken  by  an  earth- 
quake ;  a  convulsion  of    nature,   which,   as  it  was 
always    supposed    to    indicate    extensive   changes, 

•  Now  Durazzo. 


204 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


was  interpreted  by  the  hanispices  of  the  place  as  por- 
tending his  speedy  restoration  to  his  country.  His 
own  mind,  indeed,  seems  at  the  time  to  have  been 
sufficiently  inclined  to  superstitious  impressions ;  since 
he  has  recorded  in  his  treatise  on  Divination  a 
remarkable  dream,  which,  occurring  during  his  wan- 
derings prior  to  his  departure  from  Italy,  made 
sufficient  impression  upon  him  to  be  long  after- 
wards remembered.  He  imagined,  we  are  informed, 
while  resting  on  his  way  through  Lucania,  in 
a  small  village  in  the  district  of  Atina,  that  in- 
dulging his  melancholy  thoughts  in  a  wild  and 
desolate  region,  he  was  suddenly  met  by  Caius 
Marius  with  his  fasces  entwined  with  laurel,  who, 
courteously  accosting  him,  inquired  the  reason  of  his 
downcast  looks  and  melancholy  aspect ;  and  that  on 
being  informed  of  the  cause,  the  visionary  hero 
taking  him  by  the  hand,  and  exhorting  him  to  be 
of  firood  couracre,  commanded  his  nearest  lictor  to  lead 
him  into  his  sepulchre,  where  he  informed  him  he 
would  find  a  place  of  safety.  On  awaking  from  sleep, 
he  states  thai  he  communicated  his  dream  to  his 
friend  Sallustius,  who,  although  unable  to  give 
any  particular  interpretation  to  it,  did  not  doubt 
that  it  was  one  of  good  omen.  He  himself, 
when  the  senate  afterwards  passed  their  decree  for 
his  recall  in  the  temple  called  the  monument  of 
Marius,  was,  for  a  moment,  staggered  at  the  coin- 
cidence, although,  at  a  subsequent  period,  the  good 
sense  of  the  philosopher  was  able  to  refer  such  phe- 
nomena to  their  true  source.  The  story,  however 
little  deserving  attention  in  other  respects,  may 
not  appear,  as  its  truth  can  hardly  be  questioned, 
unworthy  of  notice  to  the  psychologist  who  is 
collecting  facts  for  the  elucidation  of  any  theory  in 
explanation  of  what  have  justly  been  called  the  dis- 
eases of  sleep. 

Cicero  received  at  Dyrrachium  the  news  that  his 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


205 


brother  Quintus  was  on  his  return  from  his  province 
of    Asia,    and    passing   from    Ephesus    to   Athens,    . 
either  by  a  direct  voyage,  or  through  the  northern 
parts    of    Greece.      He    had    by   this   time    made 
up  his  mind,  at  the  invitation  of  his  friend  Cnems 
Plancius,   quaestor  of  Macedonia,  who  hastened  to 
assure  him  that  he  would  find  a  safe  refuge  under 
his  protection,  to  take  up  his  residence  for  a  time  at 
Thessalonica.     Towards  this  city  he  was  accordingly 
conducted  with  a  moderate  attendance  by  Plancius, 
and  reached  the  place  of  his  destination  on  the  21st  of 
May.    Although  he  had  appointed  his  brother  to  naeet 
him  at  this  place,  the  interview  was  prevented  ;  since 
Quintus  was  at  this  time  in  great  haste  to  make  the 
best  of  his  way  to  Rome,  in  consequence  of  rumours 
which  had  reached  him,  that  it  was  intended  to  im- 
peach him  for  alleged  violence  in  his  government; 
and  Cicero,    as   the   time'  of  his   expected   arrival 
drew  nigh,  seems  to  have  been  unable  to  endure  the 
sight  of  so  near  a  relative  in  his  present  circum- 
stances of  affliction.   Many  of  his  succeeding  letters  to 
Atticus,  and  one  to  Terentia,  are  dated  from  Thessa- 
lonica, where  he  remained  till  the  end  of  November, 
when 'we  find  that  he  again  left  it  in  order  to  return 
to  Dyrrachium.     What  was  the  state  of  his  feehngs 
during  the  whole  of  this  time  may  be  conjectured 
from  the  following  letter,  which,  however,  is   but 
one  of  several,  distinguished  by  the  same  character  of 
thought  and  expression. 

"  CICERO  TO  HIS  BELOVED  TERENTIA. 

"  I  have  received  three  letters  from  Aristocritus, 
which  I  have  almost  obliterated  with  my  tears. 
I  am  tormented  with  the  deepest  anguish,  my 
Terentia,  nor  do  my  own  sorrows  afiect  me  more 
than  yours  and  those  of  your  children.  Most 
wretched  as  you  deem  yourself  I  am  more  so, 
since  although  our  present  calamities  are  common 
to  both  of  us,  the  fault  which  has  induced  them  is 


206 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


207 


entirely   mine.     It    was  my  duty  to   have    avoided 
the  storm  by  the  commission  offered  me,  or  to  have 
withstood    it  by  all    means    in    my    power,   or  to 
have  perished  nobly  in  the  attempt.     Nothing  could 
have  been  more  productive  of  misery — nothing  more 
unworthy  of  my  character— nothing  more  disgraceful 
than  the  course  I  have  actually  pursued.    My  sense  of 
grief  therefore  is  fullyequalled  bymyfeelingsof  shame, 
while  I  blush  to  think  how  little  activity  and  courage 
I  have  shown  in  the  cause  of  my  inestimable  wife  and 
my  beloved  offspring.     Day  and  night  your  pitiable 
condition,  your  sorrow  and  your  ill  state  of  health 
are  before  my  eyes ;  yet  is  there  still  a  faint  glimmer- 
ing of  hope  afforded  us.     Our  enemies  are  many — 
those  who  are  jealous  of  us  almost  innumerable, — 
and  though  to  expel  me  was  a  difficult  task,  it  is  an 
easy  matter  to  prevent  my  return.     But  as  long  as 
you  are  preserved  from  despair  I  will  not  fail   in  my 
part,  lest  if  every  attempt  should  be  abortive,   the 
fault  may  appear  to  rest  with  me.     As  to  your  anx- 
iety for   my  safety,  this,  believe  me,  is   most  easily 
ensured  ;   since  even  my  enemies  might  wish  me  to 
live  amidst  my  present  miseries.     Nevertheless,  I  will 
carefully  obey  all  your  injunctions  on  this  head.     I 
have  written  to  thank  those,  to  whom  you  desired  me 
to  express  my  acknowledgments,  having   entrusted 
the  letters  to  Dexij)pus,  and  have  mentioned  you  as 
the  channel  through  which  I   have  been  informed  of 
their   kind  offices.     I  am    perfectly  aware  of  those 
which  our  Piso  is  constantly  performing  towards  us, 
and,  indeed,  they  are  the  general  topic  of  conversation. 
The  Gods  grant  that  I  may  one  day  again  enjoy  the 
presence  of  such  a  son-in-law,  as  well  on  your  ac- 
count as  that  of  our  children.     My  only  hope  now 
rests  with  the  new  tribunes,  and  with  their  actions 
at  the*  very  beginning  of  their  office,  for  if  they  suf- 
fer the  business  to  cool — all  is  over.     For  this  reason 
I  have  sent  back  Aristocritus  without  delay,  that  you 


may  give  me  an  account  of  their  earliest  proceedings 
and  plan  of  conduct,  although  I  have  also  sent  Dex- 
ippus  word  to  return  immediately,  and  have  written 
to  my  brother  to  request  him  to  send  off  frequent 
expresses.  It  is  with  this  view,  moreover,  that  I  am 
at  Dyrrachium  at  the  present  moment,  that  I  may  re- 
ceive intelligence  of  what  is  going  forward  at  the 
earliest  opportunity ;  nor  is  my  safety  at  all  perilled 
in  my  present  residence,  since  this  state  has  always 
found  in  me  a  protector.  On  the  first  intimation  of 
the  approach  of  enemies,  I  shall  withdraw  into 
Epirus. 

"  In  reply  to  your  offer  of  joining  me  if  it  should 
be  my  wish,  it  is  my  desire,  considering  how  great  a 
part  of  the  weighty  affairs  now  before  us  is  sustained 
by  you,  that  you  should  still  continue  at  Rome.  If 
you  are  successful  it  will  be  my  part  to  visit  you,  but 
if  not— I  need  add  no  more.  From  your  first,  or  at 
most,  your  second  letter,  I  shall  be  able  to  determine 
what  is  to  be  done.  Only  be  particular  in  writing 
upon  every  point  most  fully,  although  I  ought  now 
rather  to  expect  some  decisive  result  than  an  ac- 
count of  the  steps  taken  towards  it.  Be  careful  of. 
your  health,  and  believe  that  you  are  still,  as  you  ever 
have  been,  the  dearest  object  of  my  affections. 
Farewell,  my  Terentia,  whom  my  imagination  yet 
represents  as  before  me.  At  this  idea  I  am  un- 
nerved and  overpowered  by  my  tears.  Once  more, 
farewell."     Dated  from  Dyrrachium,  Nov,  80th*. 

To  Atticus,  who,  although  he  had  neglected  to  join 
him  in  his  exile,  probably  from  the  conviction  that 
he  could  serve  his  cause  much  better  in  the  capital 

*  His  other  letters  to  Terentia  from  Thessalonica  and  Dyrrachium 
condole  n-ith  her  on  the  violence  exercised  towards  her,  speak  in 
the  highest  terms  of  acknowledgement  of  the  conduct  of  his  son-  in-law 
Piso,  and  are  chiefly  taken  up,  besides  his  lamentations,  with  do- 
mestic affairs,  and  advice  with  respect  to  an  estate  belonging  to  her- 
self, which  Terentia  had  entertained  an  intention  of  selling. 


208  THE    LIFE  OP    CICERO. 

than  in  Macedonia,  had  generously  advanced  him 
a  considerable  sum  of  money,  accompanying  the 
loan  with  a  remonstrance  on  the  singular  weakness 
he  had  shown  under  his  misfortunes,  he  writes  in  a 
letter  of  an  earlier  date : — "  As  to  the  frequent  and  se- 
vere reproofs  in  which  you  indulge  with  respect  to 
what  you  term  my  infirmity  of  mind,  is  there,  let  me 
ask  you,  a  single  evil,  however  great,  which  is  not 
comprehended  in  my  calamity^?  Did  ever  man  fall 
from  so  honoured  a  condition,  in  so  good  a  cause, 
endued  with  such  resources  of  genius,  of  prudence,  of 
popular  favour,  and  protected  ostensibly  by  such  firm 
safeguards  extended  towards  him  by  all  the  good? 
Can  I  forget  what  I  have  been — or  cease  to  feel  what 
I  am  ? — of  what  estimation — of  what  glory  —  of  what 
children — of  what  favours  of  fortune — of  what  a 
brother,  I  am  deprived  ?  The  latter,  (and  mark,  I 
request  you,  a  new  shape  of  misery,)  although 
still  esteeming  him,  as  I  have  always  done,  'more 
dear  to  me  than  my  own  existence,  1  have  shunned 
and  purposely  avoided  meeting,  both  to  spare  my- 
self the  pain  of  beholding  his  grief  and  wretchedness, 
and  of  being  exposed  as  a  spectacle  of  ruin  and  de- 
basement to  one  who  had  left  me  at  the  height  of 
prosperity  and  glory.  Am  I  then,  let  me^  inquire, 
to  be  blamed  for  being  thus  keenly  susceptible  of  my 
distresses  ?  should  I  not  rather  be  deemed  as  culpable 
for  not  retaining  the  advantages  I  have  enumerated, 
(which  I  might  easily  have  done,  had  there  not  been 
those  within  my  own  walls  who  were  conspiring  my 
destruction,)  as  for  still  surviving  what  I  have  lost  ? 
Thus  much  I  have  written  that  you  may  rather  con- 
sole me  in  future,  according  to  your  wonted  kind- 
ness, than  deem  me  worthy  of  upbraiding  or  reproof. 
I  am  the  more  brief,  both  because  I  am  prevented  by 
my  sorrow  from  adding  more,  and  because  I  expect 
news  from  Rome  of  more  importance  than  anything 


THE   LIFE    OF   crCERO; 


209 


I  have  to  communicate.  As  soon  as  this  arrives,  I 
will  give  you  more  certain  intelligence  respecting  my 
designs.  Continue  to  write,  as  fully  as  possible, 
that  I  may  be  ignorant  of  nothing*."  Dated  at  Thes- 
salonica  the  18th  of  June. 

While  Cicero  continued  to  indulge  his  unmanly 
grief  in  Macedonia,  his  friends  at  Rome  were  exert- 
ing themselves  not  only  with  ready  voices,  but  w4th 
courageous  hearts  and  prompt  hands,  for  his  recal. 
The  insolence  and  arrogance  of  Clodius,  daily  rising 
to  a  higher  pitch,  soon  became  insufferable  to  all  but 
the  desperate  band  acting  immediately  under  his 
command.  Pompey,  abeady  disgusted  at  his  pre- 
sumption, was  soon  warned  to  stand  upon  his  own 
defence  by  a  direct  attack  on  the  part  of  his  late 
ally.  Tigranes,  son  of  the  Armenian  king,  whom  he 
had  brought  to  Rome  to  adorn  his  triumph,  and  who 

•  The  weakness  of  Cicero  during  his  exile,  seems  to  have  con- 
founded most  of  the  writers  who  have  mentioned  the  subject.  Dio 
Casfiius,  in  particular,  is  so  scandalised  at  it,  that  he  has  gone  out  of 
his  way  to  introduce  in  the  middle  of  his  grave  narrative  an  imaginary 
dialogue  between  the  orator  and  Philiscus,  an  Athenian  philosopher, 
extending  over  several  pages,  in  which  the  sententious  eidolon  reads  a 
lecture  upon  fortitude,  &c.  &c.  worthy  of  Epictetus  himself.  Lord 
Bolingbroke,  whose  egregious  and  overweening  conceit  was,  no  doubt, 
highly  delighted  with  an  opportunity  of  contrasting  his  own  con- 
duct, under  similar  circumstances,  with  that  of  one  whom  he  resem- 
bled in  little  else  than  in  vanity,  has,  in  his  sickly  dilution  of  Seneca, 
(Letters  on  Exile)  dwelt  largely,  and  with  no  small  pomp,  upon  the 
subject,  after  the  following  fashion.  "  When  virtue  has  steeled  the 
mind  on  every  side,  we  are  invulnerable  on  every  side  ;  but  Achilles 
was  wounded  in  the  heel :  the  least  part  overlooked  or  neglected  may 
expose  us  to  receive  a  mortal  blow.  Reason  cannot  obtain  the  abso- 
lute dominion  over  our  souls  by  one  victory.  Vice  has  many  re- 
serves which  must  be  beaten,  many  strongholds  which  must  be  forced, 
and  we  may  be  found  of  pfoof  in  many  trials,  without  being  so  in  all. 
We  may  resist  the  severest,  and  yield  to  the  weakest  attacks  of 
fortune.  We  may  have  got  the  better  of  avarice,  the  most  epidemi- 
cal disease  of  the  mind,  and  yet  be  slaves  to  ambition.  We  may 
have  purged  our  souls  of  the  fear  of  death,  and  yet  some  other  fear 
may  venture  to  lurk  behind.  This  was  the  case  of  Cicero."  There 
is  much  more  to  the  same  effect. 


210 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


was  yet  detained  in  a  kind  of  honourable  custody  in 
the  house  of  the  praetor  Flavins,  in  the  expectation 
that  a  lurofe  ransom  would  be  offered  for  his  release, 
was  seized  by  the  emissaries  of  Clodius,  and  brought 
into  the  presence  of  the  tribune,  who,  without  deign- 
ing to  consult  with  Pompey  upon  the  subject,  took 
upon  himself  to  offer  him  life  hberty  on  his  promise 
to  advance  a  stipulated  sum*.  The  agreement  was 
quickly  concluded,  and  Tigranes,  with  equal  haste, 
despatched  with  an  armed  escort  from  the  city. 
Flavins,  on  gaining  information  of  the  manner  in 
which  his  prisoner  had  been  disposed  of,  lost  no  time 
in  attempting  his  recovery,  and  having  summoned  a 
number  of  his  retainers  and  several  of  the  faction 
known  to  be  opposed  to  Clodius,  set  off  in  eager 
pursuit.  About  four  miles  from  Rome  he  overtook 
the  party  of  whom  he  was  in  search,  and  having 
peremptorily  summoned  them  to  surrender  Tigranes 
into  his  hands,  received  a  direct  refusal.  Swords 
were  immediately  unsheathed  on  both  sides,  and  a 
fierce  encounter  ensued,  in  which  many  lives  were 
lost.  But  the  followers  of  Flavius  were  at  length 
completely  routed,  and  forced  to  fly  in  all  directions, 
leaving  the  spot  covered  with  their  dead ;  among 
whom  was  Marcus  Papirius,  a  wealthy  Roman 
knight,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  Pompey.  Flavius 
himself  re-entered  the  city  without  a  single  at- 
tendant, and  closely  followed  by  the  victors  to  the  very 
gates.  . 

Pompey,  deeply  mortified  by  this  instance  of  con- 
tempt shown  towards  him,  which,  however,  he  does 
not  seem  to  have  dared  openly  to  resent  at  the 
time,  is  said  to  have  formed  a  resolution  at  once  of 
making  every  effort  to  reverse  the  banishment  of 
Cicero,  and  his  determination  on  that  head  was,  no 
doubt,    subsequently   quickened    by   the  discovery, 

♦  Dio  Cassius,  xxxviii. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


211 


whether  real  or  pretended,  of  a  plot  against  his  life, 
in  which   a  slave    of    Clodius  was   represented   aa 
havinw  been  the  principal  agent.     In  the  senate  a 
similar  disposition  had  been  shown  on  many  occa- 
sions.     The   business   of  the   state  was  frequently 
interrupted  by  loud  clamours  on  the  part  of  Cicero's 
friends,  demanding  a  reconsideration  of  the  sentence 
against  him,  and  as  early  as  the  first  day  of  the  June 
following  his   departure,   a  decree  had  passed  the 
whole  house  for  laying  the  question   of   his  rccal 
before  the  people.     This,  when  brought  forward  by 
the  tribune  Lucius  Mummius,  was  prevented  from  re- 
ceiving the  popular  assent  by  the  prohibition  of  his 
colleague  ^lius    Ligus.     Fresh  attempts,   however, 
were  continually  made  to  obviate  the  effect  of  this  in- 
terference. On  the  29th  of  October,  eight  tribunes  out 
of  the  ten  promulgated  a  law  for  the  return  of  Cicero, 
which  was  seconded  by  Publius  Lentulus,  the  consul 
elect,  and  the  creation  of  officers  for  the  ensuing  year 
was  such  as  to  hold  out  the  highest  prospects  in  his 
favour;  since  among  the  new  tribunes  were  Annius 
Milo  and  Publius  Sextius,  two  of  his  most  devoted 
friends,    and   the    rest,   almost    without    exception, 
were  known  to  entertain  the  best  dispositions  towards 
him.     The  city  was  soon  after  freed  from  the  pre- 
sence of  the  consuls  Gabinius  and  Piso,  who  departed 
for  their  respective  provinces,  and,  in  some  measure, 
from  the  pernicious  influence  of  Clodius  by  the  ex- 
piration of  his  tribunitial  office,  which  closed  on  the 
J  0th  of  December.     During  almost  the  whole  of  this 
year  Rome  had  been  in  a  state  of  tumult.  The  opera- 
tions of  the  patrician  party  had  been  ably  conducted 
by  Quintus  Cicero,  who  on  his  approach  to  the  city, 
was  met  by  a  crowd  entreating  him,  with  tears  and 
lamentations,  to  take  upon  himself  the  guidance  of 
their  movements.     Pompey,  on  the  other  hand,  m 
consequence  of  the  middle  course  he  had  latterly 


212  THE  LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

deemed  it  advisable  to  pursue,  had  been  almost 
reduced  to  insignificance  in  the  struggle.  He  was 
several  times  grossly  insulted  by  the  mob  *,  and  once 
closely  blockaded  in  his  own  house  by  a  detachment 
of  the  Clodian  faction,  who  were  not  dispersed  with- 
out considerable  violence.  In  the  affiray  which  took 
place  on  this  occasion,  the  consuls  chose  different 
sides,  Gabinius  taking  upon  himself  the  command  of 
those  who  assembled  for  the  relief  of  Pompey,  and 
Piso  aiding  and  abetting  the  rioters  to  the  utmost  of 
his  power.  Although  the  contest  was  fortunately 
bloodless,  the  two  parties  seem  to  have  fought  with 
hearty  good-will,  Piso,  especially,  maintaining  his 
ground  with  obstinate  valour,  until  his  fasces  were 
all  broken,  and  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  his  op- 
ponents rendered  further  resistance  useless. 

At  the  very  commencement  of  the  consulate  of 
Cornelius  Lentulus  Spinther,  and  Quintus  Metellus 
Nepost,  and  immediately  after  the  performance  of  the 
customary  rites  in  the  Capitol,  the  former  of  these 
magistrates  declared  in  full  senate,  that  he  would 
enter  upon  no  other  question  before  that  connected 
with  the  repeal  of  the  law  against  Cicero  had  been 
disposed  of.  Lucius  Cotta,  the  principal  of  the 
senatorian  order,  proposed  its  instant  abrogation,  as 
passed  in  a  manner  contrary  to  all  existing  forms  and 
customs  ;  but  Pompey  was  still  of  opinion  that  the 
judgment  of  the  commons  should  be  added  to  that  of 

*  Plutarch  states  that,  among  other  insults,  Clodius,  after 
Pompey  had  resisted  his  prosecution  of  some  of  his  intimate  friends, 
ascended  an  eminence  within  view  of  the  latter,  accompanied  by  a 
number  of  bis  profligate  associates,  and  put  the  following  questions 
in  succession  : — Who  is  the  licentious  lord  of  Rome?  Who  is  it 
that  is  unworthy  of  the  name-of  a  man?  Who  is  it  that  scratches 
his  head  with  one  flnger  (a  mark  of  refined  coxcombry)  ?  "  Upon 
this,"  he  continues,  "  his  creatures,  like  a  chorus  instructed  in  their 
parts,  upon  his  shaking  his  gown,  answered  aloud  to  every  question 
—Pompey." 

f  A.D.c.  697. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


213 


the  nobility.  The  necessary  act  would  have  been 
brought  forward  on  the  same  day,  but  for  the  inter- 
ference of  the  tribune  Atilius,  who  requested  the 
delay  of  a  few  hours  to  deliberate  upon  the  subject. 
His  authority,  however,  on  mature  consideration, 
was  not  interposed,  and,  after  the  usual  interval, 
the  bill  was  finally  subjected  to  the  decision  of  the 
people  on  the  25th  day  of  January. 

But  if  Clodius  and  his  party  had  by  this  time  dis- 
covered that  their  cause  was  fast  declining  in   the 
estimation   of  the  public,  they   were   not  the  less 
determined  not  to  relinquish  the  field  to  their  adver- 
saries without  a  last  and  desperate  effort.  They  were 
still  strong  in  numbers,  in  union,  and  in  resolution, 
and  having  every  reason  to  dread  the  effects  of  the 
bill  under  consideration,  they  were  resolved  to  leave 
no  means,  however  lawless,  untried  for  its  preven- 
tion.    As  the  important   day  approached,  Clodius 
hired    a    formidable    band    of     gladiators,     under 
pretence  of   employing   them   in   the  shows  of  his 
ffidileship,  an  honour  for  which  he  was  at  the  time  a 
candidate,  and  borrowed  from  his  brother  Appius  a 
second  company,  which  was  on  the  point  of  bemg 
exhibited  at  the  funeral  rites  of  one  of  his  near  rela- 
tions.   These  manifest  preparations  for  violence  gave, 
as  might  have  been  expected,  an  immediate  alarm  to 
his  opponents,  who  began  to  assume  arms  in  their 
turn.     On  the  evening  preceding  the  meeting  of  the 
people,  matters  wore  an  increasingly  angry  aspect, 
and  it  was  evident  that  another  of  those  internal  con- 
vulsions, of  which  the  records  of  the  city  afforded 
but  too  many  instances,  was  at  hand.      Before  day- 
break on  the  following  morning,  the  tribune  Fabri- 
cius,  who  had  warmly  espoused  the  cause  of  Cicero, 
took  possession  of  the  rostra  with  a  strong  guard. 
Clodius,  however,  as  much  on  the  alert  as  himself, 
had  previously  posted  his  gladiators  in  all  the  ^venues 


214  THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

leading  to  the  Forum,  and  tlms  having  precluded,  suf 
he  imagined,  the  possibility  of  the  arrival  of  fresh 
succours  to  the  assistance  of  the  enemy,  fell  furiously 
upon  the  guards  of  Fabricius  with  his  well-trained 
swordsmen,  and,  after  a  determined  resistance,  com- 
pelled those  who  survived  the  murderous  encounter 
to  fly.     A  second   party,  on   coming  up  under  the 
command  of  the  tribunes  Cispius  and  Sextius,  was 
attacked  in  a  similar  manner,  and  speedily  routed  ; 
Sextius  himself  being  so  severely  wounded,  after  he 
had    retreated    into    the    temple    of   Castor,   which 
was  stormed  by   the   Clodian   party,   that  he  was 
left   for   dead.     At    the    same   time    the    victorious 
gladiators  sought  on  all  sides,  with  reeking  weapons, 
for   Quintus  Cicero,  who  had  presented  himself  at 
the   rostra    in   company    with    Fabricius,    and    the 
object  of  their  pursuit  was  only  able  to  escape  tlieir 
fury  by  flying   into  the  Comitium,  where,  as  they 
approached,  he  concealed  himself  beneath  a  heap  of 
dead  bodies,  and  in  the  glimmering  light  by  which 
the  forms  of  the  slain  were  rendered  but  indistinctly 
visible,  fortuuately  escaped  detection.*    The  supposed 
dwath  of  Sextius,  a  tribune  of  the  people,  and,  conse- 
quently, one  whom  it  was  sacrilege  to  injure,  struck 
the  victors  with  a  momentary  consternation.  Clodius, 
however,  fertile  in  expedients,  resolved  upon  making 
the  odium  equal  on  both  sides,  by  murdering  in  cold 
blood  one  of  his  own  tribunes,  in  order  to  charge  the 
opposite  faction  with  his  death.    Tlte  person  selected 
for  the  victim  was  Numerius  Quinctius,  an  individual 
of  obscure  birth  and  little  influence,  who,  to  please 
the  multitude,  had  assumed  the  surname  of  Gracchus, 
and    the  gladiators  were,  consequently,    desired    to 
seek  him  out  and  despatch  him.  But  Quinctius,  who 
was  far  from  being  destitute  of  quickness  and  cun- 
ning, on  gaining  some  hint  of  the  manner  in  which 

*  Pro  Sextio,  x<j(vi« 


THE   LlFfi  OF  CICEttO. 


^15 


his  services  were  likely  to  be  rewarded  by  his  friends, 
lost  no  time  in  adopting  the  readiest  means  at  hand  of 
preserving  his  life,  and  hastily  muffling  himself  in  a 
long  travelling -cloak,  and  placing  a  basket,  snatched 
from  a  countryman,  upon  his  head,  he  passed  in  this 
disguise  through  the  midst  of  his  intended  assassins, 
who,  on  all  sides,  were  loudly  calling  his  name*. 
Sextius  was,  however,  by  this  time  discovered  to  be 
still  alive,  and,  as  if  the  circumstance  had  conferred 
upon  them  full  licence  for  renewing  every  kind  of  out- 
rage with  impunity,  the  rioters  immediately  began  their 
work  of  violence  afresh.  Among  other  daring  actions, 
Clodius  set  fire  with  his  own  hands  to  the  temple  of 
the  Nymphs,  involving  in  the  conflagration  of  the 
building  a  number  of  public  records.     He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  attack  the  houses  of  Annius  Milo,  and  of 
the  prsetorCsecilius;  but  here  his  mad  career  was  for 
the  present  stopped.     The  garrisons  within  defended 
themselves  with  such  resolution,  that  the  assailants 
were  at  length  compelled  to  draw  off  in  confusion, 
and  in  a  sally  made  upon  them  while  retiring,  several 
of  the  gladiators  were  taken  prisoners. 

Day  closed  upon  this  disgraceful  spectacle  of  tumult, 
singular  for  the  indifference,  on  the  part  of  the  public 
autliorities,  with  which  it  was  allowed  to  be  main- 
tained ;  and  still  more  so,  for  the  impunity  after- 
wards enjoyed  by  those  who  had  been  actively 
engaged  in  it.  The  slaughter  was  fully  in  proportion 
to 'the  bitterness  of  feeUng  with  which  the  parties  had 
met.  The  Tiber,  if  Cicero's  assertion  is  not  a  rhetorical 
exaggeration,  and  even  the  common  sewers,  were  filled 
with  the  bodies  of  the  slain,  and  in  the  Forum  the 
blood  was  wiped  up  with  sponges.  "  Never,"  says  the 
orator,"  were  such  heaps  of  corpses  piled  in  our  streets, 
since  the  memorable  day  of  the  contest  between  Octa- 


*  Pro  Sextio,  xxxviii. 


216  THE   LIFE  OP   CICERO. 

villi  and  Cinna*.  Yet,  all  efforts  to  bring  to  justice 
those  who  had  thus  disturbed  the  public  peace  were 
unavailing,  and  Clodius  was  still  suffered  to  parade 
the  streets  with  his  gladiators,  unresisted.  Milo, 
indeed,  had  the  boldness  to  impeach  him  for  the 
attack  upon  his  house,  but  the  consul  Metellus,  the 
praetor  Appius,  and  the  tribune  Atilius,  forbade,  by 
their  edicts,  either  plaintiff  or  defendant  to  appear  in 
the  cause.  Atilius  even  set  at  liberty  the  gladiators 
whom  Milo  had  taken  and  committed  to  tlie  public 
prison,  while  the  canvass  of  Clodius  for  the  sedileship 
still  went  on,  and  was  in  no  way  injured  by  his  late  ex- 
cesses. Such  a  state  of  things,  while  there  was  yet  a  se- 
nate, and  a  general  who  had  enjoyed  three  triumphs,  in 
Rome,  may  appear  almost  inconceivable ;  yet,  recent 
history  can  furnish  an  instance  still  more  astounding, 
of  a  mighty  city  giving  up,  day  by  day,  to  an  insig- 
nificant body  of  men,  whom  a  tithe  of  its  population 
would  be  more  than  sufficient  to  annihilate  without  a 
struggle,  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  its  inhabitants,  to 
be  disposed  of  without  restraint  or  limitation.  The 
t3rranny  of  Clodius  might,  and  in  all  probability 
would,  have  proceeded  to  still  more  extravagant 
lengths,  had  there  not  been  a  man  opposed  to  him, 
gifted  with  courage  equal  to  his  own,  and  ready  to 
encounter  him,  since  the  laws  were  silent,  with  his 
own  weapons. 

There  happened  to  be  at  this  time  a  troop  of  gladi- 
ators on  sale,  together  with  a  body  of  those  slaves 
termed  bestiarii,  who  were  trained  to  the  perilous  art 
of  encountering  wild  beasts  in  the  amphitheatre. 
These  were  secretly  purchased  by  Milo,  who  com- 
missioned a  friend  to  appear  for  him  in  the  transac- 
tion, lest  he  should  be  anticipated  or  outbidden  by 
any  of  the  agents  of  his  rival.  Having  thus  procured 

*  Csedem  vero  tantam,  tantos  .icervos  corporum  ejctructos,  nin 
forte  iUo  Cinnano  atque  Octaviaqo  die,  (jui»  uD<^uam  in  foro  vidit  ?— 
Fro  ^extio,  xxxvi^  f 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


217 


a  force  as  skilful  in  the  use  of  their  weapons  as 'the 
band  under  Clodius,  and  added  to  it  the  survivors  of 
a  late  gladiatorial   show,   presented   by  the  aediles 
Pomponius  and  Cosconius,  he  lost  no  time,  after  he 
had  armed  them  to  the  teeth,  in  producing  them  at 
every  fitting  opportunity,  in  opposition  to  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  ex-tribune.     A  succession  of  obstinate, 
and  by  no  means  bloodless  skirmishes,  was  now  con- 
stantly exhibited  in  all  parts  of  the  city.  The  Forum 
constantly  resounded  with  the  clashing  swords  of  the 
combatants,  and  the  shrieks  of  the  terrified  crowds  en- 
deavouring to  escape  from  the  scene  of  commotion ; 
while  those  who  had  an  opportunity  of  beholding  it  at 
a  safe  distance  looked  on,  and  enjoyed  a  sight  so  much 
resembling  that  which  they  had  been  accustomed  to 
contemplate  at  their  public  games ;  where  rivers  of 
blood  continually  flowing  for  their  amusement,  had 
long  made  them  indifferent  to  the  exhibition  of  any 
kind  of  violent  death,  in  which  they  were  not  them- 
selves likely  to  act  the  part  of  victims.      Several 
weeks  passed  away  after  the  first  tumult,  by  which 
the  law  in  favour  of  Cicero  had  been  prevented  from 
passing,  disgraced  by  almost  daily  conflicts  between 
tlie  two  factions ;  but  the  popularity  of  Clodius  con- 
tinued progressively  to  decline,  until  he  was  so  much 
an  object  oi  the  general  dislike,  that,  when  he  pre- 
sented himself  in  the  amphitheatre,  the  hiss    with 
which  he  was  received,  was  loud  enough  to  startle 
the  horses  of  the  gladiators  in  the  arena,  and  the 
expressions  of  disapprobation  so  frequent  and  bitter, 
that  he  was  at  last  obliged  to  reach  his  seat  by  a 
secret  passage  beneath  the  benches,  which,  from  that 
circumstance,  was  wittily  called  the  "Appian  way*.'* 
At  length  appeared  the  conclusive   decree  of  the 
•  Pro  Sextio,  lix.— This  circumstance,  however,  is  mentioned  a« 
occurring  after  the  passing  of  the  decree  of  the  senate,  in  the  Monu- 
ment of  Marius,  by  which  the  return  of  Cicero  was  ultimatel/ 
determined. 


218  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

senate,  commanding  those  who  wished  well  to  the 
interests  of  the  state,  throughout  the  whole  of  Italy, 
to  repair  to  the  capital,  and  lend  their  assistance 
towards  carrying  the  act  for  the  return  of  Cicero. 
It  had  been  preceded  by  two  edicts  of  less  consequence 
upon  the  same  subject, — the  one  returning  thanks 
to  the  cities  which  had  afforded  him  a  refuge  in  his 
exile, — the  othtT  enjoining  the  Roman  officers  in  the 
provinces  through  which  he  might  pass,  to  take 
every  precaution  for  ensuring  his  safety.  No  sooner 
w^as  the  decree  issued,  than  the  roads  leading  to  the 
city  were  thronged  with  multitudes,  eager  to  testify 
their  cheerful  obedience  to  the  mandate.  Every 
state  contributed  to  swell  the  tide  of  voters,  which, 
for  many  successive  days,  continued  to  pour  in  at  the 
several  gates  of  Rome  fi*om  different  quarters,  and  the 
senate  had  soon  at  their  disposal  a  majority  sufficient 
to  overwhelm  every  appearance  of  opposition.  At  a 
meeting  of  that  assembly,  held  in  the  temple  erected 
to  Honour  and  Virtue  bv  Caius  Marius,  where  four 
liundred  and  seventeen  members,  besides  the  ma- 
gistrates, were  present,  it  was  determined,  at  all 
hazards,  to  repeal  the  law  of  Clodius.  This  resolu- 
tion was  taken,  while  the  people  were  engaged  in 
witnessing  the  games  exhibited  by  Lentulus  in  the 
neighbouring  theatre,  to  which  the  senators  repaired 
as  soon  as  the  business  of  the  day  was  finished.  On 
their  entrance,  they  were  received  by  the  audience, 
who  were  speedily  made  acquainted  with  the  issue 
of  their  deliberations,  with  loud  and  continued 
bursts  of  applause ;  and  when  the  consul  appeared 
in  his  place,  the  assembly,  rising  in  a  body  and 
stretching  their  hands  towards  him,  returned  him 
thanks  for  the  part  he  had  taken  and  so  strenuously 
maintained.  During  the  remainder  of  the  perform- 
ance, the  subject  of  which  happened  to  be  the 
Telamon  of  Accius,  repeated   shouts  were   uttered 


\ 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  219 

whenever  the  tragedian  .^sopus,  who  performed  the 
principal  part  in  the  piece,  (that  of  the  banished 
prince,)  uttered  a  sentence  which  might  be  considered 
as  bearing  any  reference  to  Cicero.  Such  passages*, 
from  the  very  subject  of  the  drama,  were  necessarily  of 
frequent  occurrence,  and  the  actor  made  considerable 
additions  to  them,  by  introducing  in  several  instances 
slight  alterations  of  his  own,  with  a  view  to  falling 
in  as  much  as  possible  with  the  present  state  of 
the  popular  feeling.  At  an  after  representation  of 
the  Brutus  of  the  same  dramatist,  while  passing  a 
eulogy  upon  the  great  patriot  as  tlie  preserver  of  his 
country,  he  ventured  to  substitute  the  name  of  Tullius 
for  that' of  Brutus,  and  received  in  recompense  the 
unbounded  applause  of  the  multitude. 

On  the  day  following  this  manifestation  of  the 
public  opinion,  the  senate  again  met  in  the  temple 
dedicated  to  Jupiter  Optimus  Maximus,  on  the 
Capitoline  hill,  and  after  speeches  highly  honourable 
to  Cicero  had  been  delivered  by  the  consul  Lentulusf, 
Pompey,  Publius  Servilius,  and  Lucius  Gellius,  it 
was  determined,  in  compliance  with  the  wish  both 
of  the  citizens  resident  in  Rome,  and  of  those  who 
had  lately  arrived  from  the  municipal  towns,  that 
no  further  delay  should  take  place  in  laying  tlie 
proposed  bill  before  the  people ;  that  the  ceremony 

•  Several  of  these  are  given   in  the    oration   for  Sextius,  Ivi. 

t  The  other  consul,  Quintus  Caecilius  Metellus  Nepos,  who, 
vhen  trib'ine  of  the  people,  had  been  violently  opposed  to  Cicero, 
had  in  the  previous  assembly,  in  consequence  of  an  energetic  appeal 
made  to  him  by  Publius  Servilius,  who  adjured  him  by  his  illus- 
trious ancestry  to  lay  aside  his  enmity  at  this  important  crisis, 
expressed  himself  not  unfavourably  inclined  towards  the  abrogation 
of  the  law  of  Clodius.  This  called  forth  the  letter  of  acknow- 
ledgment, (Ad  Diversos,  v.  4,)  in  which  Cicero  terms  his  speech 
«*  mitissima  oratio,"  and  requests  his  future  kind  offices.  It  was 
to  this,  also,  that  Mctellus  was  indebted  for  his  title  of  "  vir  egiegiu* 
etvere  Metellu8."-Pio  Scxtio,  IxiL 


220 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO: 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


221 


of  taking  the  auspices  should  be  dispensed  with  upon 
the  occasion,  and  that  unless  the  question  was  satis- 
factorily settled  in  five  days,  Cicero  should  be  con- 
sidered restored  to  all  his  former  dignities.  Thanks 
were  at  the  same  time  voted  to  those  citizens  who 
had  come  from  a  distance  to  second  the  authority 
and  wishes  of  the  Senate. 

Clodius  alone,  with  undaunted  resolution,  con- 
tinued his  opposition.  His  mock  assemblies  were 
still  convened,  and  his  gladiators  undisbanded.  In 
the  senate,  although  he  was  the  only  person  who 
TentuVed  to  utter  a  dissentient  voice,  he,  notwith- 
standinof,  remonstrated  loudly  against  the  present 
proceedings,  and  when  the  people  finally  met  on 
the  4th  of  August  to  give  their  sanction  to  the  law 
in  the  Campus  Martins,  made  a  public  oration 
against  it.  But  his  interposition  was  wholly  inef- 
fectual. The  assembly,  one  of  the  most  imposing 
ever  witnessed  at  Rome,  consisting  of  an  immense 
multitude  of  all  ranks  and  ages,  and  in  fact  compris- 
ing  almost  every  person*  in  the  city  who  had  a  vote 
to  bestow,  was  successively  addressed  by  Pompey 
and  other  orators  of  the  highest  rank  and  influence 
in  favour  of  the  decree  ;  and  when  the  question  was 
subjected  to  the  decision  of  the  ballot,  it  was  found 
that  not  a  single  century  was  excepted  from  the 
general  opinion  in  its  favour. 

Cicero  had  continued  for  several  months  at 
Dyrrachium,  awaiting  the  final  issue  of  the  move- 
ments in  his  behalf  with  feverish  impatience.  His 
letters  written  to  Atticus  from  that  city  represent 
him  as  continuing  to  fluctuate  between  hope  and 
despair  ;  elated  by  the  slightest  event  which  seemed 
to  promise  his  recal,  and  sunk  into  the  deepest  de- 
jection at  every  new  delay  t.     On  receiving  jnfomia- 

*  Post  Red.  in  Sen.  xi. 

t  Ad  Attic,  iii.  22,  23,  24,  25, 26,  27. 


tion,  however,   from   his   brother   Quintus    of  the 
final   decree  of  the  senate   in  his  behalf,   he    was 
resolved  upon  not  waiting  for  its  confirmation  by  the 
people,  deeming  it  a  less  evil,  as  he  has  stated,  to  risk 
his  life,  than  to  be  wanting  to  this  opportunity' of 
revisiting  his  country.      Actuated  by  this  determi- 
nation,  he  embarked  at  Dyrrachium  almost  at  the 
very  hour  in  which  the  edict  promulgated  for  his 
return  received  the  sanction  of  the  centuries;  and 
after  a  quick  and  prosperous  passage,  arrived  on  the 
day  following  (August  5)  ofi"  Brundusium,  where 
he  immediately  landed.     This  day  he  triumphantly 
records  as  being  the  anniversary  of  the  foundation 
of  the  city  which  had  now  received  him,  and  of  the 
dedication  of  the  temple  of  Safety  at  Rome,  as  well 
as  the  birth-day  of  his  daughter  TuUia,  who  pre- 
sented herself  to  him  on  his  landing.     Every  thing, 
indeed,  seems  to  have  been  viewed  by  him  through  the 
exultation  naturally  indulged  at  the  moment;    yet 
the  apothegm  so  often  expressed  by  the  ancient  poets — 
that  from  the  brightest  source  of  human  felicity,  there 
rises  that  which  must  always  give  a  taste  of  bitterness 
to  the  spring, — was  not  without  its  illustration  on  the 
occasion ;  since  the  mourning  weeds  of  his  daughter, 
who  had  but  a  short  time  before  been  deprived  of 
her  husband  Piso,   must   certainly   have   reminded 
the  orator  of  the  absence   of  the   familiar  face  of 
one,  who  would  have  been  the  foremost  in  hailing 
his  return,  and  whose  unremitting  exertions  in  his 
cause,  while  absent  from  his  country,  he  could  now 
never  hope  to  repay*.     With  this  exception,  not  a 
cloud  appears  to  have  overcast  the  inspiring  prospect 
spread  before  him,  in'^  the  enjoyment  of  which  he 
appears  to  have  indulged  with  all  the  abandonment 
to  its  delusions,  of  which  his  ardent   and  sensitive 

•     *  Piso  ille  gener  meus  cui  fructura  pietatis  suae  neque   ex  me 
neque  a  populo  Romano  ferre  licuit. — Pro  Sextio  xxxi. 


222  THE   LIFE    OF   CICKRO. 

temperament  was  capable.  On  the  third  day  from  his 
landing,  he  was  acquainted  by  Quintus  of  the  result 
of  the^late  comitia,  and  soon  after  leaving  the  house 
of  his  friend  Lenius  Flaccus,  of  whose  hospitality  he 
had  partaken  with  feelings  widely  different  from 
those  with  which  he  had  sought  a  shelter  under  his 
roof  on  a  former  occasion,  he  set  out  on  his  return 
to  Rome,— the  highest  honours  which  the  magis- 
trates of  Brundusium  could  invent  having  been 
lavished  upon  him  previously  to  his  departure. 
From  this  point  his  progress  resembled  a  continued 
pageant.  As  he  pursued  his  journey  leisurely  along 
the  Appian  way,  halting  for  a  short  time  at  Naples, 
Capua,  Sinuessa,  Minturnae,  Formiae,  Terracina,  and 
lastly  at  Aricia*,  every  town  and  village  near  the  line 
of  his  route  seemed  emptied  of  its  inhabitants,  so 
dense  and  numerous  were  the  multitudes  who 
hastened  from  every  side  to  greet  him.  "  I  was  borne," 
he  afterwards  observed,  "  to  Rome  on  the  shoulders  of 
Italy  t ;"  and  the  figure  was  probably  no  exaggeration. 
Wherever  he  approached,  the  way  was  lined  with  spec- 
tators of  all  ages  and  sexes.  A  total  cessation  from 
business  took  place  in  the  different  cities,  and  public 
embassies  were  sent  from  many  to  compliment  him  on 
his  restoration  to  his  country.  Festive  entertainments, 
thanksgivings  to  the  gods,  rejoicings  and  congratula- 
tions, were  the  constant  results  of  his  appearance.  As 
he  drew  near  to  Rome,  on  the  4th  day  of  September, 
still  higher  honours  awaited  him.     At  some  distance 

*  The  first  stogefiom  Rome — Hor.  Sat.  i.  5. — 

"  Egrcssnm  magna  tne  excejnc  Aricia  Roma,  &c. 
'  It  is  now  called  La  Riccia.  Rc6;)ecting  the  Appian  road  at 
this  place,  Eustace  obsei-ves  :  "  The  immense  foundations  of  the 
Via  Appia,  formed  of  vfst  blocks  of  stone,  rising  from  the  old 
town  up  the  side  of  the  hill,  in  general  about  twenty-four  feet  in 
breadth,  and  sometimes  about  sixty  feet  in  elevation,  are  perhaps 
One  of  the  most  striking  monuments  that  remain  of  Roman  enter- 
prise and  workmanship." 

t  Post  redkum  in  Sen.  xr. 


W 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  223 

from  the  walls,  he  was  met  by  the  whole  body  of 
the  senate,  with  the  magistrates  at  their  head,  and 
escorted  by  them  into  the  city,  which  he  entered  at 
the  Capene  gate*.  Here  a  sight  of  the  most  imposing 
kind  presented  itself.  The  steps  of  the  two  neighbour- 
ing temples,  those  of  Mars  and  the  Muses,  Jind  the 
whole  length  of  the  street  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
as  well  as  the  porticoes  and  house-tops,  presented  one 
dense  mass  of  human  beings,  who  rent  the  air  with 
their  shouts  at  the  first  glimpse  of  the  procession  by 
which  he  was  accompanied.  The  same  spectacle 
was  exhibited  along  the  whole  way  to  the  Capitol ; 
every  house  and  building,  the  whole  area  of  the 
Forum,  and  the  temples  by  which  it  was  surrounded, 
being  crowded  to  excess,  and  resounding  with  the 
enthusiastic  acclamations  of  their  occupants.  Amidst 
this  delirium  of  public  excitement,  Cicero  ascended 
the  steps  which  led  to  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Optimus 
Maximus,  the  path  of  triumph  trodden  by  a  hundred 
conquerors,  but  now  pursued  by  one  who  was  en- 
joying a  victory  whicli  was  far  more  glorious, 
although  bloodless  and  uncelebrated  by  the  dazzling 
insignia  of  military  parade,  than  any  of  which  it  had 
hitherto  been  the  place  of  commemoration,  —  the 
victory  of  genius  and  patriotism  over  prejudice,  in- 
gratitude, and  factious  violence.  After  performing 
his  devotions  in  the  shrines  at  its  summit,  and 
especially  before  that  of  the  Goddess  to  whom  he 
had  commended  himself  at  his  departure  from  Rome, 
he  retired  to  the  house  appointed  for  his  residence, 
accompanied  to  its  threshold  by  the  same  illustrious 
train,  and  again  saluted  on  his  way  thither  by  the 
unabated  applause  of  his  fellow  citizens. 

•  Ad  Attic,  iv.  1. 


224 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Oration  of  Cicero  in  the  Senate  after  his  Return — Tumults 
raised  by  Clodius — Oration  "  Pro  Domo  sua" — Attack  ofClo- 
dius  upon  the  Houses  of  Cicero  and  Milo — Clodius  elected  ^dile 

Speech  of  Cicero  "  De  Rege  Alexandrino" — Milo  impeached 

by  Clodius  for  illegal  Violence — Cicero  defends  Publius  Sextius 
— Interrogation  against  Vatinius — Oration  "  De  Haruspicum  Re- 
sponsionibus" — Cicero  tears  down  the  Tablets  in  the  Capitol, 
containing  the  Decree  relating  to  his  Banishment — Oration 
respecting  the  Consular  Provinces — Marriage  of  Tullia  and 
Crassipes — Speeches  for  Balbus  uud  Caelius — Letter  of  Cicero  to 
Lucius  Lucceius  —  Second  Consulate  of  Pompey  and  Crassus — 
Oration  of  Cicero  against  Piso— His  Letter  to  Marius  respecting 
the  Dedication  of  the  Pompeian  Theatre — Cicero  writes  his 
Treatise  "  De  Oratore" — Departure  of  Crassus  for  his  Parthian 
Expedition. 

On  the  day  after  his  return  to  Rome,  Cicero  took 
his  seat  in  the  senate,  which  was  crowded  to  excess  by 
a  numerous  assembly,  eagerly  anticipating  a  renewal 
of  the  enjoyment  they  had  so  often  experienced  from 
the  exhibition  of  his  extraordinary  powers  of  elo- 
quence. In  his  opening  speech,  which  was  necessarily 
to  a  great  degree  complimentary,  there  could  have 
been  little  to  disappoint  his  audience,  if  there  was 
nothing  in  it  to  exceed  their  expectations*.  The 
consuls,  praetors,  and  tribunes  of  the  people,  who  had 
been  instrumental  in  his  recal,  are  severally  thanked 
by  name,  and  the  other  members  of  the  house  collec- 
tively ;  the  usual  incense  is  offered  to  Pompey,  who 
is  declared  in  valour,  glory,  and  the  performance  of 
great  exploits,  far  above  all  who  had  preceded  him  of 
whatever  ase  or  nation,  while  Lentulus  is  lauded 
literally  to  the  heavens,  since  the  orator,  setting  no 

*  A  subsequent  speech  was  afterwards  delivered  to  the  people, 
at  an  assembly  convoked  by  the  consuls.  This  is  the  "Oratio 
Secunda  post  Reditum,"  which  in  some  editions  has  been  placed 
before  that  to  the  senate. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  225 

bounds  to  his  gratitude,  terms  him  his  parent  and 
the  guardian  deity  of  his  being,  fortunes,    present 
reputation,  and  future  fame.     But  while  he  is  thus 
careful  to  manifest  his  sense  of  the  kind  offices  of  his 
friends,  he  is  by  no  means  forgetful,  on   the   other 
hand,  of  those  to  whose  exertions  he  had  owed  his 
exile  and  the  spoliation  of  his  property.     Gabinius 
and  Piso  are  especially  selected  as  the  objects  of  his 
sarcastic  invectives ;  and  although  the  censure  hurled 
against  them  is  only  preparatory  to  fiercer  declama- 
tions upon  the  same  subject,  it  is  such  as  to  leave 
little  to  be  desired  on  the  score  of  bitterness.     The 
prudence  of  this  kind  of  oratory  might   fairly   be 
questioned,  but  Cicero  was  well  aware  that  he  had 
not  returned  home  to  lay  aside  his  armour,  or  to  take 
his  share  in  the  management  of  a  republic  in  the 
enjoyment  of  the   blessings  of  internal   peace.     If, 
indeed,  he  had  indulged  in  any  respect  in  this  delu- 
sive hope,  it  would  speedily  have  been  dispelled  by 
the  conduct  of  Clodius  immediately  after  his  return. 
The  senate,  who  had  been  for  some  months  hindered, 
hy  the  successive  commotions  on  a  question  which 
had   long    engrossed  the   attention   and  interest  of 
all  ranks,  from   attending  to   any  other  business  of 
importance,  were  now  assailed  by  the  murmurs  of 
the  people  on  the  subject  of  a  prevailing  scarcity  of 
corn,  which  had  been,  in  a  great  measure,  caused  by 
the  universal  rush  to  the  capital,  in  consequence  of 
the  late  edict.*     Clodius,  equally  ready  to  create  or 
to  foster  any  feeling   of  dissatisfaction,  presuming 
upon  the  ill-feeling  which  began  to  be  expressed, 
having  sent  a  number  of  his  emissaries  to  endeavour 
to  fan  the  popular  .discontent  into  a  flame,  armed 
his   gladiators   anew,   and  placed  them   under   the 
guidance  of  Marcus  LoUius  and  Marcus  Sergius,  two 
of  the  most  desperate  of  his  associates,  with  orders  to 
beset  the  senate  in  the  temple  of  Concord.     On  their 

*  Ad  Attic,  iv.  L    . 


226 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


227 


way  meeting  with  the  consul  Metellus  and  his  train, 
these  ruffians,  without  hesitation,  assaulted  him  with  a 
shower  of  stones*,  by  which  Metellus  himself  was 
wounded,  and  his  attendants  compelled  to  fly  from 
the  spot.  Encouraged  by  the  impunity  with  which 
this  attack  was  suffered  to  pass,  they  proceeded,  on 
learning  that  the  meeting  of  the  senate  had  been 
adjourned  to  the  Capitol  for  its  better  security,  to 
invest  that  place  of  assembly  as  well.  The  people  of 
Rome,  however,  who  were  at  length  convinced  that 
their  interests  would  be  ill  served  by  these  out- 
rages, displayed  on  this  occasion  a  proper  regard  for 
the  continuance  of  the  peace  of  the  city,  and  muster- 
incr  in  vast  crowds  attacked  the  band  of  Clodius  with 
such  spirit  as  speedily  to  compel  them  to  raise  the 
siege.  Cicero,  on  hearing  of  the  tumult,  lost  no  time 
in  endeavouring  to  pacify  it.  The  multitudes  who  sur- 
rounded the  senate-house  were  already  loudly  calling 
for  him  by  name,  but  when  he  appeared  and  proposed 
as  a  remedy  for  the  present  distress,  that  Pompey 
should  for  five  years  be  invested  with  authority  to 
make  regulations  respecting  the  supply  of  provisions* 
the  expressions  of  approbation  were  unbounded.  The 
very  name  of  this  hitherto  fortunate  leader  seemed  to 
be  a  sufficient  security  for  the  prosperous  manage- 
ment of  any  undertaking  in  which  he  was  concerned. 
The  resolution  thus  proposed  was  soon  after,  notwith- 
standing the  opposition  of  several  of  the  senators, 
converted  into  a  law.  Fifteen  deputies  were  appointed 
at  the  same  time,  at  the  request  of  Pompey,  to  assist 
him  in  carrying  it  into  effect.  Among  these  Cicero 
was  the  first  chosent,  but  he  appears  to  have  only 

•  Missiles  of  this  kind  seem  to  have  been  ordinarily  resorted  to 
by  the  Roman  crowds.  Cicero,  at  least,  in  his  speech  for  Sextiiis, 
speaks  of  "  lapidationes"  in  a  manner  which  implies  that  they  were 
of  no  unfrcqucut  occurrence.  *'  Atqui  vis  in  foro  versata  est?  certe ; 
quando  enim  major  I  lapidutiones  persaepe  vidimus ;  non  ita  saepe,  sed 
nimium  esrpe  gladios." — Pro  Sextio,  zxxvi.        +  Ad  Attic,  ir.  1. 


1^ 


provisionally  accepted  the  commission,  which  he  sub- 
sequently resigned  in  favour  of  his  brother  Quintus. 

His  attention  was  at  the  time  sufficiently  occupied 
by  his  efforts  to  obtain  some  compensation  for  the 
property  of  which  he  had  been  despoiled,  and  more 
especially  to  procure  the  restitution  of  the  site  on 
which  his  Palatine  house  had  formerly  stood.  As 
this  spot,  however,  had  been  solemnly  dedicated  to 
the  service  of  religion,  and  was  actually  occupied  by 
the  temple  which  Clodius  had  caused  to  be  erected 
upon  it,  the  question  of  its  re-assignment  to  its 
original  owner  was  viewed  as  one  of  no  small  import- 
ance and  of  considerable  delicacy.  The  subject  was 
first  brought  before  the  senate,  who  referred  it  to  the 
pontifical  college  to  determine  whether  the  consecra- 
tion had  been  made  in  due  form  ;  ordaining  that  if  the 
answer  of  the  priests  should  authorise  the  proceeding, 
the, consuls  should  be  ordered,  after  making  an  esti- 
mate of  the  expense,  to  replace  the  building  which 
had  been  destroyed  at  the  public  cost.  Before  the 
assembled  pontifices,  therefore,  on  the  last  day  of 
September*,  Cicero  delivered  the  eloquent  address,  in 
consequence  of  which  the  ceremony  performed  by 
Clodius  was  declared  to  be  invalid.  The  oration  was 
devoted,  for  the  most  part,  to  prove  the  illegality  of 
the  adoption  of  the  late  tribune  into  the  plebeian 
order,  and,  by  a  necessary  consequence,  the  nullity  of 
every  public  act  he  had  performed  during  his  year  of 
office.  The  sentence  of  banishment  passed  upon 
himself  naturally  fell  under  the  consideration  of  the 
orator  at  the  same  time,  and  was  easily  shown  to 
have  been  deficient  on  all  points.  The  conduct  of 
Clodius  and  his  faction  came  in  for  its  usual  share  of 
irony  and  invective.  Of  the  merits  of  this  speech,  how- 
ever obvious,  the  student  of  the  writings  of  Cicero  will 


*  Diximus  apud  Pontifices   pridie  Cal.  Octobres. 
iv,  2.  f  Pro  Domo  sud. 

q2 


-Ad  Attic. 


228 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


perhaps  not  be  inclined  to  form  so  high  an  opinion  as 
its  author,  who  seems  to  have  considered  it  almost  the 
best  of  his  productions ;  and  this,  unless  another  instance 
of  the  want  of  power  so  common  in  genius  of  forming 
a  right  estimate  of  its  own  productions,  may  be  con- 
sidered a  plausible  argument  against  the  authenticity 
of  the  disputed  oration  extant  under  the  title  "  Pro 
Domo  sua."     Yet  the  trenchant  power  of  its  wit,  and 
the  nervous  energy  of  many  of  its  passages,  noust  at 
all  times  command  admiration,  and  the  peroration,  as 
in  most  of  the  speeches  of  Cicero,  is  a  striking  specimen  ' 
of  majestic  eloquence.  The  pontifices,  convinced  by  its 
arguments,  or  overpowered  by  its  rhetoric,  were  easily 
induced  to  decree  that  the  consuls  might  proceed  to 
rebuild   the  house  of  the  orator  without    any  reli- 
gious scruples,  and  the  sum  of  two  millions  of  ses- 
terces* was,    after    some    delays  in   the    senate,   in 
consequence  of  the  clamours  of  Clodius  and  the  inter- 
position of  Atilius  Serranus,  at  length  voted  for  the 
purpose.     The  loss  sustained  by  the  injuries  done  to 
the  villas  at  Tusculum  and  Formise,    for  which  com- 
pensation was  also  to  be  made  at  the  public  expense, 
was  estimated  at  the  respective  sums  of  five  hundred 
thousand  sesterces  t  for  the  former,  and  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  for  the  latter  place;  a  remuneration 
which  Cicero  seems  to  have  considered  as  very  far 
from  satisfactory,  and  much  below  the  real  value  of 
the  property  destroyed  J. 

The  demolition  of  his  house  upon  the  Palatine  hill, 
was  not  the  only  mischief  which  Clodius  had,  with 
perfect  impunity,  effected  in  the  same  quarter.  Tlie 
noble  portico  of  Catulus,  built  from  the  spoils  of  the 
,  Cimbric  war,  had  been  also  unceremoniously  levelled 
wnth  the  ground,  that  it  might  not  present,  by  the 
difference  of  the  style  of  its  architecture,  a  contrast 
unfavourable  to  the  new  temple  of  Liberty  erected  in 
*  16,000/.  t  4000/.  X  Ad  Attic,  iv.  2. 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


229 


its  neighbourhood.  This  was  also  to  be  replaced  at 
the  cost  of  the  people.  But,  while  the  workmen  were 
employed  in  its  re-erection,  as  well  as  upon  the  other 
new  buildings  close  beside  it,  which  were  already 
raised  to  the  roof,  Clodius,  who  had  been  for  some 
time  busying  himself  in  endeavouring  to  excite  the 
populace  to  a  fresh  disturbance,  made  his  appearance, 
on  the  3d  of  November,  with  an  armed  band,  and,  by 
his  desperate  attack,  speedily  compelled  the  busy 
multitude  before  him  to  desist  from  their  labour. 
The  unfinished  walls,  thus  abandoned,  were  soon 
reduced  to  a  heap  of  ruins,  but  not  contented  with 
their  destruction,  Clodius  next  turned  his  attention  to 
the  neighbouring  house  of  Quintus  Cicero  ;  which  was 
first  battered  by  the  stones  of  his  followers,  and  soon 
afterwards  fired  by  the  lighted  brands  showered 
without  intermission  upon  it.  A  few  days  after- 
wards, Cicero  himself  was  met  in  the  Via  Sacra  by 
the  same  furious  company  who  had  perpetrated  this 
outrage,  and,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  assailed 
by  their  missiles,  and  threatened,  by  the  swords  and 
bludgeons  with  which  they  were  armed,  in  so  serious 
a  manner,  that  lie  was  obliged  to  take  refuge,  in  order 
to  save  his  life,  in  the  neighbouring  court-yard  of 
Tertius  Damio.  On  the  12th  day  of  November  the 
rioters  again  made  their  appearance,  and  commenced  a 
regular  assault  with  sword  and  buckler,  upon  the  resi- 
dence of  Milo,  situated  on  Mount  Germalus,  which 
they  continued  to  invest  the  whole  of  the  day,  making 
repeated  efforts  to  carry  it  by  storm,  or  to  set  it  on  fire 
by  means  of  the  burning  torches  hurled  against  it. 
On  this  occasion  Clodius  himself  having  taken  his 
post  in  the  house  of  Publius  Sylla,  into  which  he  had 
effected  a  forcible  entrance,  directed  from  thence,  in 
person,  the  operations  of  his  adherents.    But  the  issue 

•   Armatis   hominibus,   ante  diem  tertiura    Nonas    Novembres 
expulsi  sunt  fabri  de  aita  uostia,  &c. — Ad  Attic,  iv.  3. 


230  tHB   LIFE   Of  ClCEltO. 

of  the  contest  was  far  from  being  in  his  favour,  since 
Qiiintns  Flaccus,  at  the  head  of  a  resolute  body  of 
well-armed  retainers,  making  at  length  a  furious  sally 
upon  the  assailants,  succeeded  in  repulsing  them  after 
a  severe  slaughter,  in  which  the  most  distinguished 
members  of  the  Clodian  party  were  left  on  the  ground, 
and  in  which  the  chief  promoter  of  the  fray  would 
have  met  with  the  fate  he  had  so  often  tempted,  had 
he  not  escaped  the  search  of  the  victors  by  a  hasty 
concealment.     This  defeat  produced  a  considerable 
diminution  of  his  strength,  although  it  proved  no 
check  upon  his  insolence.       The  senate,  provoked 
beyond  their  usual  power  of  endurance,  by  the  late 
repeated  excesses,  decreed  that  those  who  had  been 
guilty  of  them,  should  be  indicted  under  the  law 
respecting  illegal  violence,  and  that  the  election  of 
adiles  should  be  deferred  until  they  had  been  called 
upon  to  account  for  their  conduct.     As  it  was  a 
standing  law  in  the  constitution,  that  no  magistrate 
should  be  impeached  while  actually  in  office,  Clodius 
had  been  encouraged  by  the  prospect  of  his  speedy 
return  to  the  dignity  for  which  he  was  a  candidate, 
and  the  hope  of  immunity  from  punishment  for  a 
year  to  come,  in  braving  the  public  authorities,  and, 
even  under  the  express  prohibition  of  the  decree,  and 
in  open  defiance  of  the  senate,  persisted,  with  the 
aid  of  the  consul  Metellus,  in  his  endeavours  to  hold 
the  comitia.     But  the  fortune  of  his  opponent  was 
now   in   its   turn    upon  the   ascendant.     Milo    had 
openly  declared   that   no  aediles   should  be  chosen, 
under  any  circumstances,  until  the  consulate  of  Me- 
tellus should  expire  ;  and  fully  redeemed  his  pledge, 
by  occupying  the  different  places  appointed  for  the 
assemblies  of  the  people  with  an  armed  force,  and  by 
declaring  on  every  occasion,  in  his  capacity  of  tribune, 
that  the  auspices  were  unfavourable  to  the  meeting. 
For  several  weeks  the  city  was  kept  in  an  uproar 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


231 


by  the  contentions  of  the  two  parties,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  January  following,  when  the  consuls  Cor- 
nelius Lentulus  Marcellinus,  and  Lucius  Marcius 
Philippus,  had  for  some  days  entered  upon  their  office, 
that  Clodius,  whose  well  known  extravagance  pro- 
bably induced  the  people  to  expect  some  extraordinary 
magnificence  in  the  games  which  should  be  entrusted 
to  his  management,  was  at  length  elected  curuleaedile*. 
At  the  commencement  of  this  year  Cicero  delivered 
in  the  senate-house,  his  speech  on  the  restoration  of 
the  king  of  Egypt  to  his  dominions.  Ptolemy,  sur- 
named  Auletes,  the  father' of  the  celebrated  Cleopatra, 
having  provoked  the  hatred  of  his  subjects  by  re- 
peated acts  of  oppression  and  tyranny,  was  at  length 
driven  from  his  kingdom  by  a  general  insurrection, 
and  forced  to  apply  to  the  Roman  senate  for  assist-  \ 
ance,  offering,  as  a  bribe  to  induce  them  to  interfere 
in  his  favour,  to  hold  all  the  territory  he  might 
regain  in  acknowledgment  of  their  sovereignty.  His 
subjects,  who,  on  a  false  report  of  his  death,  had 
placed  his  daughter  Berenice  upon  the  thronet,  on 

•  Cicero  at  the  close  of  the  yearx.u.c.  697,  was,  for  a  short  time, 
at  his  Tusc\ilan  villa,  ap  appears  from  his  epistle  to  Gallus,  (Ad 
Diversos,  vii.  26,)  in  which  he  states  that  he  had  retired  from  Rome 
for  a  few  days,  in  consequence  of  a  temporary  indisposition.  He 
accounts  for  his  illness  as  follows  : — "  You  will  wonder,  perhaps, 
what  excesses  I  have  been  guilty  of,  to  bring  upon  myself  this  dis- 
order. 1  must  inform  you  that  I  owe  it  to  the  frugal  regulations  of 
the  sumptuary  laws.  The  products  of  the  earth  being  excepted  out 
of  the  provisions  of  that  act,  our  elegant  eaters,  in  order  to  bring 
vegetables  into  fashion,  have  found  out  a  method  of  dressing  them 
in  so  high  a  taste,  that  nothing  can  be  more  palatable.  It  was 
immediately  after  having  eaten  freely  of  a  dish  of  this  sort,  at  the 
inauguration  feast  of  Lentulus,  that  I  was  seized  with  an  illness 
which  has  never  left  me  till  this  day.  Thus  you  see  that  I,  who 
have  withstood  all  the  temptations  that  the  noblest  lampreys  and 
oysters  could  throw  in  my  way,  have  at  last  been  oveipowered  by 
paltry  beets  and  mallows." — Melmoth.  The  law  alluded  to  is 
probably  the  Lex  Licinia  Sumptuaria,  passed  a.u.c.  687,  which, 
though  it  allowed  but  a  certain  quantity  of  meat  to  be  served  up  at 
entertainments,  left  the  vegetables  to  be  supplied  dd  libitum* 

•f  Dio  Cassius,  Hist.  Bom,  x^ci^. 


232 


THE   LIFE  OP  CICERO. 


receiving  intelligence  of  his  appeal,    despatched  in 
haste  an  embassy,  consisting  of  a  hundred  deputies, 
to   entreat  the   senate   not  to   listen  to  it ;    but  of 
these,  several    were  assassinated  by  his  directions, 
either  on  their  journey,  or  soon  after  their  arrival  at 
Rome :   the  rest  he  contrived   to  win  over   to  his 
interests,  either  by  bribes  or  by  promises.     Odious 
as  his  cause  was,  Pompey  was,  nevertheless,  inclined 
to  lend  hhn  his  full  support,  in  the  probable  expecta- 
tion of  being  entrusted  with  the  commission  of  rein- 
stating him  in  his  dominions,  and  several  long  and 
anxious  debates  took  place,  in  consequence,  upon  the 
subject.    But  the  tide  of  public  opinion  ran  strongly 
against   the    exiled   prince,    partly    on    account    of 
his   well-known   tyrannical    disposition,    but   more 
especially  from  the  pretended  discovery  of  an  oracle 
in  the  Sibylline  books,  by  the  tribune  Marcus  Cato, 
who    was  fiercely    opposed    to    his  restoration,    by 
which  the  Romans  were  cautioned,  in  awful    and 
mysterious  language,  against  any  expedition  equipped 
from  their  city  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  a  king  of 
Egypt  in  the  recovery  of  his  crown.     Cicero,  who 
appears  to  have  been  less  scrupulous  of  offending 
against  the  voice  of  justice  than  against  that  of  pro- 
phecy, and  who,  moreover,  was  anxious   to  secure 
the   command   of  the  expedition  to  Egypt  for  his 
friend    Lentulus,  at    the  time  proconsul    of  Cilicia, 
attempted,  with  the  assistance  of  Lucullus  and  Hor- 
tensius,  to  procure  the  adoption  of  a  middle  course, 
which,  though  fully  as  iniquitous  as  that  already 
contemplated,  would,  at  least,  lie  beyond  the  scope 
of  the  oracular    denunciation.     He,  therefore,  pro- 
posed, in  his   address  to  the  senate*,  that,  instead 

*  Brief  fngnients  of  this  oration  (De  Rege  Alexandrine),  together 
with  an  ancient  comtnentary,  as  it  is  supposed,  of  Asconiiis,  have 
been  discovered  by  Maio,  in  the  Ambrosian  library  of  Milan,  and 
are  to  be  found  in  the  latest  editions  of  Cicero's  works.  They  are, 
however,  wholly  unimportant. 


THE   LIFE   OF  CICERO.  233 

of  sending  an  armed  force  directly  from  the  city  under 
Pompey,  or  any  other  general,  the  governor  of  Ci- 
licia should  be  appointed  to  march  into  Egypt  with 
the  troops  stationed  in  his  province,  and  aid  in  the 
reduction  of  the  revolted  kingdom  to  the  authority  of 
its  former  sovereign.     The  faction  of  Pompey  resisted 
this  proposal  with   all  their  strength,  and  Crassua 
added  his  voice  against  it,  advising,  no  doubt  with 
the  view  of  being  himself  included  in  the  commission, 
that  the  office  of  restoring  Ptolemy  should  be  en- 
trusted not   to    one   general,   but   to   three;    while 
another  party  under  Bibulus,  equally  sensitive   to 
their  own  advantage,  clamoured  for  the  appointment 
of  as  many  civil  commissioners,  in  the  place  of  men 
invested  with  a  military  command.     Owing  to  the 
divisions   among  its    supporters  in  the   senate,  the 
feeling  of  disapprobation  towards  it  among  the  mem- 
bers of  that  body,  and  the  unanimous  cry  against 
the   measure    from  the  more   equitable,    or  rather 
the  more  superstitious  multitude  without,  the  plan 
of  interference  was    at  length  obliged  to  be  drop- 
ped, and  the  Egyptian  monarch  forced  to  remain  for 
some  time    longer    without    his   ancestral   throne; 
although   he  was  afterwards,  to  the  grief  and  indig- 
nation of  his  subjects,  reinstated  in  it,  in  considera- 
tion of  a  bribe  of  ten  thousand  talents,  by  Gabinius, 
proconsul  of  Syria. 

Clodius,  elated  with  his  recent  election,  by  which 
he  had  gained  the  very  point  of  vantage  from  which 
his  adversary  was  forced  to  descend,  was  now  busy  in 
carrying  forward  an  impeachment  of  Milo  for  illegal 
violence ;  founding  with  measureless  assurance  his 
accusation  on  the  very  ground  upon  which  he  him- 
self ought  long  before  to  have  been  condemned  ;^ 
the  employment  of  armed  gladiators  against  peace- 
ful citizens,  and  the  creating  of  tumults  to  the  hind- 
rance of  the  comitia.     A  fresh  succession  of  disturb- 


234 


THE   LIFE  OP  CICEliO. 


ances  ensued  on  this  question  which  shook  the  city  to 
its  centre.  Milo,  though  supported  by  the  counte- 
nance of  Pompey,  Cra8sus,and  Cicero,  was,  neverthe- 
less, compelled,  on  two  occasions,  to  appear  to  the 
charge  brought  against  him,  and  each  time  the  vio- 
lence of  the  partisans  both  of  himself  and  his  rival 
threatened  the  most  serious  consequences.  On  the 
second^day  appointed  for  his  trial,  Pompey  was  se- 
lected as  the  especial  object  of  the  abuse  of  the  opposite 
mob.  After  he  had  delivered  a  speech  of  three  hours, 
duration  in  defence  of  Milo,  Clodius  rose  to  reply, 
but  was  so  exasperated  and  annoyed  by  the  invectives 
and  cutting  sarcasms  vociferated  against  him,  that 
instead  of  proceeding  with  his  address,  he  had  re- 
course to  his  favourite  system  of  annoy.ince,  and,  ac- 
cording to  his  usual  manner,  began  a  series  of  ques- 
tions to  his  retainers  :  "  Who  is  it  that  procures 
laws  to  destroy  the  people  by  famine  ?  Who  is  it 
that  wishes  to  be  sent  to  Alexandria  ?" — to  all  of  which 
his  followers  responded  by  shouting  in  chorus  the 
n^me  of  "  Pompey."  His  concluding  interrogation, 
however, — "  Whom  is  it  the  will  of  the  people  to 
send  upon  the  expedition  ?" — was  answered  in  a  dif- 
ferent manner,  since,  with  one  accord,  the  Clodians 
returned  for  reply  repeated  cries  of  "  Crassus." 
Whatever  effect  the  previous  insults  might  have  pro- 
duced, this  at  once  told  to  the  quick  upon  the  jea- 
lousy and  ambition  of  Pompey,  and  had  nearly 
produced  an  open  rupture  between  himself  and  his 
wealthy  confederate,  since  he  shortly  afterwards  ut- 
tered, at  an  assembly  of  the  senate  held  in  the  temple 
of  Apollo,  hints  of  his  intention  to  stand  upon  his 
defence,  and  not  to  be  murdered  as  Scipio  Africanus 
had  been  by  Carbo.  He  even  proposed  to  Cicero, 
whether  sincerely  or  not,  to  enter  into  an  agreement 
with  him  for  their  mutual  safety,  pretending  a  plot 
against  his  life,  encouraged  by  Crassus,  and  calling  in 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


235 


a  number  of  his  retainers  from  the  country  for  his 
better  security.  But  his  immediate  answer  to  Clo- 
dius was,  an  encouragement  to  his  followers  to  fall 
without  ceremony  upon  the  adverse  party  and  drive 
them  from  the  field.  He  was  at  once  understood  and 
obeyed,  and  after  a  spirited  skirmish,  in  which  their 
leader  was  ejected  summarily  from  the  rostra,  the 
Clodians  were  thoroughly  beaten  and  dispersed.  The 
prosecution  of  Milo  was,  as  the  result,  probably  al- 
lowed to  drop,  since,  although  mention  is  made  after 
this,  of  repeated  adjournments  of  his  trial,  there  is 
no  account  extant  of  its  issue. 

The  oration  for  Publius  Sextius,  was  delivered 
during  the  heat  of  these  commotions  *  :  a  noble 
monument  of  eloquence,  and,  perhaps,  one  of  the  most 
free,  among  the  numerous  compositions  of  Cicero, 
from  their  besetting  fault,— a  too  great  display  of  the 
merely  mechanical  graces  of  the  rhetorician.  As  Sex- 
tius was  impeached  under  the  Lutatian  law  respect- 
ing violence,  for  the  part  he  had  acted  when  tribune, 
in  seconding  the  attempts  of  Fabricius  to  maintain  the 
forum  and  rostra  against  the  attacks  of  Clodius,  the 
orator  had  an  opportunity  of  commenting  upon  the 
causes  of  his  own  banishment,  the  manner  in  which 
it  had  been  effected,  and  the  whole  series  of  events 
occurring  during  the  consulate  of  Gabinius  and  Piso. 
The  remembrance  of  his  exile,  seems  fortunately  to 
have  deprived  him  of  some  portion  of  the  egotism 
in  which  he  had  been  formerly  accustomed  to  in- 
dulge, and  to  have  exorcised  the  shades  of  Cati- 
line, Lentulus,  and  Cethegus,  which  were  formerly 
allowed  to  flit  through  his  orations.  His  mention 
of  himself  is,  in  all  respects,  dignified  and  unoffend- 
ing. But  against  the  two  consuls  under  whose  ad- 
ministration he  had  suffered  so  severely,  he  expends 

•  Sextius  was  acquitted  on  the  1 3th  of  March. — Ad  Quintum, 
ii.  4* 


236 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


his  whole  powers  of  vehement  declamation  and  studied 
irony  ;  and  these  twin  harpies  of  the  republic  are 
represented  for  the  reprobation  of  posterity,  not  only 
in  all  the  disgraceful  minutiae  of  their  moral  charac- 
ters, but  in  the  most  finished  details  of  outward  form 
and  feature,  which  we  still  see  before  us  as  perfectly 
as  if  they  had  been  preserved  by  the  skill  of  the 
most  accomplished  artist.  Yet,  although  the  orator 
sarcastically  dwells  on  the  fopperies  and  excesses  of 
Gabinius,  his  curled  hair  arranged  tier  above  tier*, 
his  unguents,  and  dissolute  glances,  he  reserves  his 
happiest  powers  of  description  for  his  colleague,  whom 
he  paints  as  mimicking  the  ancient  worthies  of  the 
republic  with  his  profusion  of  beard,  his  uncombed 
hair,  his  sordid  toga,  his  solemn  countenance,  severe 
looks,  and  contracted  eye-brow,  on  which,  as  on 
the  shoulders  of  Atlas,  the  whole  interests  of  the 
state  might  be  thought  to  rest  t.  Nor  has  he 
shown  less  ability  in  depicting  with  most  vivid 
colours  the  several  scenes  which  occurred  in  Rome 
during  his  exile,  and  at  the  moment  of  his  return ; — the 
miserable  condition  of  the  state  torn  by  anarchy  and 
faction,  the  insolent  despotism  of  Clodius,  the  frays 
and  tumults  which  accompanied  his  factious  violence, 
the  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  in  favour  of  his  own 
recall,  and  the  exultation  .and  triumph  with  which  all 
Italy  arose  to  do  homage  on  his  return  to  the  patriot 
who  had  been  compelled  to  forsake  his  country 
in  a  moment  of  weakness  and  infatuation.  Indepen- 
dently of  other  considerations,  the  oration  for  Sextius 
will  long  continue  to  be  prized,  as  the  best  account 
of  the  occurrences  of  a  year  far  from  being  the  least 
remarkable  in  the  annals  of  Rome.     But  were  it  less 

*  Alter,  unguentis  affluens,  calamistrata  comA,  despiciens,  con- 
sciens  stuprorum,  &c. — Pro  Sextio,  viii. 

"f  Nam  quod  ego  de  supercilio  dicam  ?  quod  turn  hominibus  non 
supercilium  sed  pignus  reipublicse  videbatur,  &c. — Ibid. 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO  237 

interesting  as  an  historical  document,  its  intrinsic 
merits  could  never  fail  of  inducing  in  the  student  of 
ancient  literature,  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  at  its 
escape  from  the  fate  which  has  overtaken  so  many 
other  models  of  reasoning  and  eloquence,  the  pro- 
duction of  the  same  exalted  intellect.  Sextius,  how- 
ever, as  we  find,  was  not  wholly  indebted  to  it  for 
his  acquittal*,  since,  in  this  cause,  the  pleadings  of 
Cicero  had  been  preceded  by  a  masterly  defence, 
prepared  by  the  long  practised  skill  and  abilities  of 
Hortensiust. 

The   same   occasion   gave   birth   to   the  oration, 
or    as   it    is  generally  called,    the  "  Interrogation " 
against  Vatinius.      The  latter,  who  had  borne  the 
offices  of  quaestor  and  tribune  of  the  people,  and  had 
long  rendered  himself  obnoxious  to  Cicero  by   his 
devotion  to  the  Clodian  faction,   had  appeared  as  a 
witness  for  the  prosecution  in  the  cause  of  Sextius, 
and  was  consequently  exposed  to  the  severe  cross- 
examination  of  the  counsel  for  the  defendant.     This, 
in  the  form  of  a  long  succession  of  questions,    to 
which  Vatinius   neither  had  the  power,    nor   pro- 
bably  the    inclination   to    answer,    constitutes    the 
whole   of  the    above   mentioned  oration,  which    is 
chiefly  remarkable  for  its  pungent  satire ; — its  leading 
object  being  to  render  ridiculous  and  contemptible 
the  individual  against  whom  it  was  pronounced,  a  work 
which,  if  the  character  given  of  Vatinius  has  not 
been  distorted  by  the  malevolence  of  party  spirit  and 
political  animosity,  appears  to  have  been  essentially 
one  of  supererogation;  but  which,  Cicero  tells  us, 
was   performed  in   such   a  manner    as  to    deserve 
the  applause  both  of  gods   and   menj.      We   find 
from  his  letters,  that   while  the   cause  of  Sextius 

•  Ad  Quintum,  ii.  4.  t  Pro  Sexti<u  ji. 

+  Vatinium    arbitratu    nostro  concidimus,    dts    hominibusque 
plaudentibus. — Ad  Quintum,  ii.  4. 


238 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


was  in  progress,  he  also  undertook  the  defence  of 
Lucius  Bestia,  accused  of  corrupt  practices  in  can- 
vassing for  office.  This  oration  is  entirely  lost.  It 
was  followed  hy  one  induced  by  a  renewed  attack  on 
the  part  of  Clodius,  whose  ill-feeling  towards  him 
was  not  likely  to  be  diminished  by  the  late  storm  of 
impassioned  censure  directed  against  himself,  and 
under  circumstances  sufficiently  elucidatory  of  the 
character  of  the  times. 

The  attention  of  the  haruspices  at  Rome  had  of 
late  been  called  to  the  serious  consideration  of  certain 
ominous  portents,  on  which  their  opinion  was  re- 
quested by  the  senate*.  The  heavens  had  been, 
as  it  was  reported,  illumined  by  a  strange  and  daz- 
zling meteor,  which  traversed  them  from  north  to 
south.  A  wolf  had  been  seen  to  enter  the  gates  of 
the  city,  and  to  wander  through  its  streets,  contrary 
to  the  usual  cautious  habits  of  those  animals  of 
prey.  A  shrine  of  Juno  on  the  Alban  mount, 
which  had  hitherto  faced  the  east,  had  turned 
suddenly  towards  the  north  ;  several  citizens  had 
been  struck  with  lightning ;  and,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Rome,  strange  and  horrible  noises  were  said  to  have 
been  heard,  resembling  the  uproar  of  encountering 
armies,  and  the  clanging  weapons  of  subterranean 
hostst.  The  persons  consulted  on  the  causes  of  these 
supposed  tokens  of  the  displeasure  of  the  gods, 
answered,  that  the  public  games  had  been  negligently 
performed  and  polluted  ;  that  places  consecrated  to 
the  service  of  religion  had  been  considered  as  pro- 
fane;  that  those  who  had  worn  the  character  of 
suppliants  had  been  basely  murdered,  contrary  both 
to  law  and  to  equity ;  that  rites  of  the  most  ancient 

*  De  Haruspicum  Responsionibus,  x.     Dio  Cassius,  xxxix. 

+  The  true  cause  of  this  phenomenon  was,  no  doubt,  the  earth- 
quake mentioned  in  the  oration  on  the  subject  as  having  lately 
taken  place  in  the  Picenum. 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


239 


1    t| 


and  mysterious  kind  had  been  imperfectly  celebrated 
and  desecrated,  and  that  the  sanctity  of  the  most 
solemn  oaths  had  been  disregarded.  Jupiter,  Saturn, 
Neptune,  and  Tellus,  were  declared  to  be  the  divini- 
ties to  whom  it  was  necessary  that  expiation  should 
be  made ;  and  they  were  said  to  warn  the  state  by 
these  fearful  tokens,  against  such  divisions  among 
the  nobility  and  leading  persons  of  the  state,  as 
must  infallibly  lead  to  disgrace  abroad  and  ruin  at 
home.  On  this  vague  reply,  Clodius  based  a  long 
oration,  intended  to  show  that  the  rebuilding  of 
Cicero's  house,  on  ground  expressly  consecrated  to 
religious  purposes,  was  one  of  the  events  alluded  to 
as  having  provoked  the  resentment  of  the  deities ; 
and  Cicero,  on  the  following  day,  made  his  reply  in 
the  senate-house.  After  successfully  parrying  both 
the  assertions  and  insinuations  of  his  adversary,  he 
endeavoured,  in  his  turn,  to  bring,  not  a  part,  but  the 
whole,  of  the  reply  of  the  haruspices  to  bear  upon 
the  Clodian  faction,  and  to  prove  them  equally 
guilty  under  each  of  its  separate  counts.  1.  By  a 
late  interruption  of  the  Megalesian  games,  and  the 
introduction  of  persons  of  servile  condition  into  the 
theatre  at  their  celebration*.  2.  By  the  occupation  on 
the  part  of  Clodius  of  the  house  of  Quintus  Seius, 
whom,  after  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  gain  his  resi- 

•  The  Megalesian  games,  in  honour  of  the  goddesses  Ceres  and 
Cybele,  were  annually  performed  at  Rome  with  the  utmost  ex- 
pense and  magnificence,  on  the  4th  and  9th  of  April,  in  the  Circus 
Maximus.  The  classical  reader  will  remember  the  beautiful  allusion 
made  to  them  by  Juvenal  at  the  close  of  his  eleventh  satire. 
Previous  to  their  celebration,  all  who  were  not  freemen  were  com- 
manded to  depart  from  the  spot.  Clodius,  however,  in  the  year 
of  his  aedileship,  while  presiding  over  these  entertainments,  intro- 
duced an  immense  number  of  slaves  into  the  theatre.  A  tumult 
arose  in  consequence,  which  was  quelled  with  great  difficulty  by 
the  consul  Lentulus  Marcellinus  ;  but,  on  a  second  occasion,  the 
Clodian  mob  actually  drove  all  the  other  spectators  from  the 
place,  and  kept  possession  of  it  for  themselves. 


T 


240  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

dence  by  purchase,  he  was  said  to  have  caused  to  be 
poisoned  ;  and  by   the  demolition  of  a  shrine,   and 
several    altars    within    its    precincts*.      3,    By  the 
murder  of  Theodosius,  a  native  of  Chios,  while  em- 
ployed on  an  embassy  to  Romet,  a  deed  in  which 
Clodius  had  the  reputation  of  having  been  the  prin- 
cipal actor ;  and  the  assassination,  by  order  of  Piso, 
of  Platorf ,   a  citizen  of  Orestis  in  Macedonia,  who 
had  been  sent  by  his  countrymen  to  Thessalonica,  on 
a  public  mission  to  the  proconsul ;   and  4.  By  the 
late  violation  of  the  rites  of  the  Bona  Dea,  and  the 
perjury  of  the  judges  who  had  acquitted  the  criminal 
plainly  guilty  of  that  notorious  sacrilege.    The  danger 
of  dissention  among  the  principal  persons  of  the  state, 
the  orator  demonstrated  to  be  only  avoidable  by  the 
suppression   of  the    insolence    of  the   individual   to 
whom  aU  the  disturbances  which  had  lately  happened, 
and  in  consequence  of  which  the  commonwealth  was 
now  tottering  on  the  verge    of  ruin,   were  plainly 
attributable.     After  this  speech,  we  do  not  find  that 
Clodius  ventured  again  to  interfere  with  respect  to 
Cicero's   Palatine   house,    which,    as    well    as    that 
erecting  for  his  brother,  is  mentioned,  in  his  letters  to 
Quintus,  as  now  rapidly  rising  from  its  ruins  in  a 
style  of  surpassing  magnificence§.     Contentions  upon 
other    subjects,  however,  between  these   two  bitter 
enemies  were   not   wanting.      Notwithstanding  the 
universal  assent  of  the  people  to  his  return,  the  decrees 
respecting  the  banishment  of  Cicero  were  still  fixed  up 
in  the  Capitol.     In  order,  therefore,  to  abolish  this 
last  remaining  testimony  of  his  disgrace,  he  ascended 
thither    in  company  with  Milo,  and  several  of  the 
tribunes  ;  and  having  torn   down  the  brazen  tablets 
on  which  the  obnoxious  acts  were   engraved,  was 


t  Id.  xiv. 


*  De  Haruspicum  Respousionibus.  xii. 

§  Ad  Quiiituii),  ii.  3,  4. 


^  Id.  xxi. 


THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO.  24 1 

carrying  them  off  in  triumph,  when  Clodius,  having 
hastened  to  the  spot  with  his  brother  Caius,  at  that 
time  pr«tor,  forced  him  to  abandon  his  design. 
But  a  second  attempt,  while  Clodius  was  absent 
from  the  city,  was  more  successful,  since  Cicero  was 
enabled,  without  interruption,  to  remove  the  tablets 
to  his  own  house.  A  warm  dispute  was  afterwards 
raised  in  the  senate  upon  the  subject;  Clodius 
making  loud  complaints  against  the  illegal  violence 
which  he  pretended  had  been  used,  while  even  Cato, 
who  had  now  returned  from  executing  his  commis- 
sion at  Cyprus,  took  part  against  Cicero,  who  de- 
fended his  conduct  by  the  argument  of  which  he 
had  several  times  before  availed  hunself,  that  all  the 
acts  procured  by  the  instrumentality  of  his  adversary 
during  his  tribunate,  were  necessarily  void,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  illegality  of  his  adoption  into  the 

plebeian  order.  .    xi  • 

Hifl  reputation  among  the  people  was,  at  this 
time,  by  no  means  raised  by  the  part  he  had  lat- 
terly taken  in  forwarding  the  views  of  the  tnum- 
virate.  A  motion  which  he  had  made  for  re- 
considering the  Agrarian  act  of  Caesar  respectmg 
the  distribution  of  the  lands  of  Campania  was 
sufiered  to  drop,  on  a  remonstrance  from  Pom- 
pey,  who,  previous  to  his  departure  to  Africa, 
for  the  purchase  of  corn  in  the  prevailing  scarcity, 
had  been  summoned  to  an  interview  with  Caesar 
at  Lucca,  in  which  the  latter  engaged  him  to  use 
all  his  influence  with  Cicero,  to  prevent  his  carry- 
ing his  opposition  any  farther*.  In  the  debates 
respecting  the  assignment  of  the  consular  pro- 
vinces for  the  ensuing  year,  according  to  the  Sem- 
pronian  law,  the  wavering  in  his  policy  was  not  less 
obvious.  His  speech  upon  the  subject,  while  strenu- 
*  Caesar  had  been  informed  of  Cicero's  opposition  in  a  previous 
interview  with  Craasus,  which  took  place  at  Ravenna. 


242  THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 

ously  recommending  that  Gabinius  and  Piso  should, 
without  delay,  be  summoned  home  from  Syria  and 
Macedonia,  was  replete  with  arguments  for  continuing 
Caesar  in  the  government  of  the  two  Gauls,  contrary 
to  the  opinions  of  the  party  with  which  he  had 
hitherto  sided.  In  it  he  eloquently  sets  forth  the 
danger  which  had  at  all  times  threatened  the  state 
from  the  different  Gallic  nations,  and  the  unexampled 
display  of  valour  and  conduct  by  which  tliey  had 
been  lately  not  only  prevented  from  crossing  the 
barrier  of  the  Alps,  but  actually  subjected  to  the 
Roman  arms,  after  a  succession  of  dazzling  cam- 
paigns, carried  on  in  the  heart  of  their  own  country, 
and  against  the  fiercest  among  their  tribes*.  The 
abilities  of  Caesar  are  mentioned  in  terms  of  the 
highest  panegyric  :  his  former  enmity  towards  him- 
self the  orator  treats  with  singular  gentleness ; — 
professing,  with  apparent  generosity,  to  sacrifice  all 
considerations  of  a  private  nature  to  his  regard  for 
the  general  interests  of  the  commonwealth.  But  it 
is  unfortunately  out  of  the  power  of  his  readers  to 
give  him  credit  for  more  than  the  partial  influence  of 
any  such  feeling.  In  advocating  in  this  instance  the 
cause  of  Caesar,  he  was  guided  by  two  motives.  The 
first  was  his  hatred  of  Piso  and  Gabinius,  and  his  in- 
dignation at  the  conduct  they  were  at  present  pursuing 
in  the  countries  entrusted  to  their  government.  If 
Caesar  were  recalled  from  either  or  both  of  the  Gauls, 
it  was  by  no  means  unlikely  that  these  would  be 
selected  as  consular  provinces  for  the  ensuing  year, 
in  which  case  Macedonia  and  Syria,  instead  of 
being  assigned  to  the  new  consuls  at  the  expiration 
of  their  office,  as  Cicero  had  intended,  would  in  all 
probability  be  still  suffered  to  continue  under  the 
sway  of  their  present  oppressors.  His  second  reason 
is  clearly  explained  in  his  letters  to  the  pro-  consul 
*  De  Provinciis  Cousularibus,  xiii. 


THE   LIFE   OF  CICERO. 


243 


u; 


I 


./' 


/ 


'\ 


Lentulus,  and  it  cannot  be  said  to  be  one  which 
reflects    the    highest    credit    upon    his    integrity. 
Disgusted  with  the   pride    and   arrogance   of    the 
purely  aristocratical  party,  who  seem  to  have  been 
constantly  reminded  of  his  inferior  birth  by  their 
jealousy  of  the  late  honours  with  which  his  return 
had  been  accompanied,  and,  at  the  same  time,  des- 
pairing of  making   any  effectual  opposition  to  the 
confederacy,  among  the  members  of  which  all  the 
power  of  the  state  was  now  divided,  he  was  now 
evidently  inclined  to  place  himself  at  the  entire  dis- 
posal  of  the   triumvirate,    and  more   especially  of 
Pompey,   to   whom    his    correspondence    professes 
a    complete    devotedness.     Nor  was    the   voice  of 
interest  altogether  silent,    or   without  its    share  in 
inducing  the  change.     "  As  to  your  inquiry  con- 
cerning the  state  of  public  affairs,"  writes  the  yield- 
ing patriot,  in  giving  an  account  of  the  issue  of  the 
late    debates   upon   the   consular   provinces,    "  our 
differences  of  opinion  are  the  greatest  possible,  but  the 
combatants  are  unequally  matched.     For  those  who 
are  already  the  strongest  in  wealth,  arms,  and  po- 
litical power*,  have  risen  to  still  more  extensive 
influence  by  the  folly  and  inconsistencies  of  their 
adversaries.     They  have,  therefore,  with  but  slight 
opposition,  obtained  from  the  senate  that  which  [they 
are  well  aware  they  could  never  have  gained  from 
the  people  without  a  serious  convulsion ;  for  both  the 
money  demanded  by  Casar  for  the  pay  of  his  army 
has  been  voted  to  him,  and  the  power  of  choosing 
ten  lieutenants,  while  it  has  been  easily  effected  that 
no  successor  should  be  sent  into  his  province  as  ap- 
pointed by  the  regulations  of  the  Sempronian  law. 
I  do  not  write  at  length  upon  this  subject,  since  the 
present  condition  of  the  republic  is  far  from  meeting 
with  my  approbation ;  my  sole  object  is  to  remind 
•  An  allusion  to  the  triumvirate. 

r2 


244 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


you  of  a  lesson  which,  although  devoted  to  philosophy 
from  my  childhood,  I  have  acquired  less  by  study 
than  by  painful  experience,  but  which  I  hope  you 
will  learn  in  a  milder  school  than  that  of  adversity  ; 
namely,  that,  in  consulting  our  honour,  we  should 
neither  entirely  lose  sight  of  our  own  interests  *,  nor 
wholly  devote  ourselves  to  the  latter,  at  the  sacrifice 
of  honour." 

From  the  same  letter,  as  well  as  from  others  of 
about  the  same  date,  it  is  ascertained  that  at  this 
period  he  was  engaged  in  forming  an  alliance  between 
his  daughter  Tullia  and  Furius  Crassipes  t,  a  Roman 
of  high  birth  and  considerable  property,  as  well  as 
by  the  nuptial  festivities  of  his  friend  Atticus,  who 
had  recently  celebrated  his  marriage  with  Pilia.  The 
happiness  of  Cicero  received  no  accession  from  his 
new  family  connexion,  since  a  coldness  soon  took 
place  between  Crassipes  and  Tullia,  which  ended  in 
a  formal  divorce.  Other  vexations  do  not  seem  to  have 
been  wanting  to  embitter  his  peace — vexations  of 
such  a  kind  as  were  not  to  be  precluded  from  crossing 
his  threshold,  or  from  darkening  his  domestic  hearth. 
To  these  he  frequently  alludes,  although  in  guarded  ex- 
pressions; but  it  is  evident  that  the  causes  of  the  discords, 
which  afterwards  separated  him  from  his  own  wife, 
were  now  fast  increasing  in  number,  and  constantly 

•  Ad  Diversos,  i.  7.  The  word  "  interests' '  is  perhaps  the  best 
translation  of  the  very  delicate  and  signiRcant  term  salutis  in  this 
passage.  Melmoth,  in  his  notes  to  the  epistle,  has  justly  expressed 
a  severe  censure  of  the  disingenuousness  of  Cicero,  who,  in  his 
oration  for  Bal bus,  lays  public  claim  to  the  honour  of  being  the 
foremost  to  advocate  the  very  concessions  of  \vhich  he  complains  in 
his  letter  to  Lentulus  :  "  Harum  ego  sententiarum  et  princeps  et 
auctor  fui." 

-f-  Tullia  was  affianced  to  Crassipes  on  the  fourth  day  of  April, 
and  the  entertainment,  termed  the  *'  sponsalia,"  in  celebration  of 
the  event  given  on  the  sixth  of  the  same  month.  "  Dederam  ad  tl 
literas,  Tulliam  nostram  Crassipedi  prid.  Non.  April,  esse  despon- 
satam."  (Ad  Quintum,  ii.5.)  "Adviii.Id.  Apr.  sponsalia Crassipedi 
praebui." — Ad  Quintum,  ii.  6. 


*-< 


/ 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  *  245 

everting  a  more  depressing  influence  upon  his  peace 
and  spirits. 

It   is   not  easy   to   affix   the   exact  date   to   his 
orations  for  Coelius  and  Balbus,  although  both  are 
undoubtedly  to  be  referred  to  the  consulate  of  Phi- 
lippus  and  Marcellinus.     Balbus  was  a  native  of 
Gades  in  Spain,  upon  whom  Pompey,  in  return  for 
his  services   during  the  war  against  Sertorius,  had 
conferred  the  freedom  of  the  city.     His  right  to  the 
honour  was,  however,  impugned  by  one  of  his  fellow 
citizens,  and  the  cause  was  ultimately  referred  to  the 
tribunal  of  a  Roman  praetor.    Considering  the  talent 
and  authority  arrayed  on  the  side  of  the  defendant, 
there  is  nothing  to  excite  wonder  in  the  determination 
of  the  question  in  his  favour,  since  Pompey,  Crassus, 
and  Cicero    appeared  in    succession  in  his  behalf. 
The  oration  of  the  last  yet  remains  to  testify  against 
its  author,  by  the  excess  of  its  flattery  towards  the 
idol  on  whom  so  much  of  the  incense  of  his  noble 
genius  was  wasted.     The  speech  of  Pompey  is  eulo- 
gised as  surpassing  all  which  he  had  yet  heard  in 
acumen,  profundity,  dignity,  elegance,  and  a  thorough 
acquaintance  with  the  laws  and  precedents  *.      Over 
and  above  the  fulsome  adulation,  moreover,   which 
pollutes  the  introductory  passages  of  this  oration,  there 
is  a  fatal  position  in  it,  the  doctrine  of  which  there  is 
but  too  much  reason  to  believe  Pompey  to  have  been 
sufficiently  ready  to  acknowledge,  but  which  both 
himself  and   his   panegyrist   lived   to  repent — the 
assumption,  that  what  had  been  done  by  so  great 
and  renowned   a   character,    must    necessarily   and 
inevitably  be  lawful.     It  was  such  assertions  as  these 
that  familiarised  to  the  ears  of  the  Roman  people, 
long  before  its  arrival,  the  despotic  power  which  was 
hastening  with  rapid  strides  towards  them,  although 
under  a  form  little  suspected,  and  still  less  dreaded. 
~  •  Pro  L.  Cornelio  Balbo,  i. 


246 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


In  the  defence  of  Marcus  Coelius,  while  there  is 
perhaps  less  to  blame  in  point  of  principle,  there  is  at 
the  same  time  more  to  admire  in  consideration  of  the 
rhetorical  excellences  of  the  oration.  Coelius,  a  Roman 
knight  of  habits  which,  even  by  the  representation  of 
his  advocate,  seem  to  have  been  sufficiently  dissolute, 
was  accused  by  Atratinus,  a  citizen  wliose  father  he 
had  formerly  impeached  of  crimes  of  the  most  atro- 
cious character.  He  was  asserted  to  have  procured  the 
murder  of  Dion,  one  of  the  late  ambassadors  sent  to 
Rome  from  Alexandria,  and  to  have  borrowed  from 
Clodia,  the  sister  of  the  aedile,  with  whom  he  was  at 
the  time  living  in  guilty  intercourse,  a  sum  of  money 
for  the  purpose  of  hiring  the  assassins.  Of  this  loan, 
when  it  wasredemanded,  he  was  said  to  have  refused 
the  payment,  and  to  have  added  to  his  other  delin- 
quencies the  enormity  of  an  attempt  to  poison  the 
lender  by  the  instrumentality  of  her  own  servants.  In 
these  charges,  which  were  chiefly  instigated  by  Clodia^ 
from  some  cause  of  disgust  given  by  her  paramour, 
there  was  a  character  of  personal  malevolence  obvi- 
ous enough  to  render  the  whole  improbable  in  the  eyes 
of  impartial  judges.  The  opportunity  of  increasing  and 
strengthening  this  impression  would  not  have  beea 
neglected  by  a  much  less  acute  pleader  than  Cicero,  and 
he  has  availed  himself  of  it  to  the  full.  At  the  same 
tim^,  under  the  avowed  influence  of  a  wish  to  spare 
the  character  of  Clodia,  as  much  as  might  be  con- 
sistent with  the  interests  of  his  client,  he  indulges 
his  hostility  to  her  family  and  name  by  a  withering 
exposure  of  her  vices.  His  expedient  of  summoning 
the  shade  of  the  blind  old  censor  Appius  Claudius, 
to  upbraid  the  unworthy  daughter  of  his  once  glorious 
house,  and  cite  in  her  ears  the  virtues  of  her  female 
ancestry,  is  a  master-stroke  of  fanciful  satire.  Of 
the  other  parts  of  the  speech,  in  which  he  attempts 
to  throw  a  gloss  over  the  dissolute  habits  of  the  ac- 


THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO.  247 

ciised,  the  advocate  is  much  more  to  be  commended 
than  the  moralist.     These  passages  will  long  furnish 
a  standing  evidence   of  the   extent   to  which    ho- 
nour and  dishonour,  temperance   and  excess,  were 
confounded,  altered,  or  substituted  for  each  other  at 
will  in  Roman  society,  by  a  rule  of  conduct,  which  was 
subject  to  any  amplification  as  well  as  restriction  m 
its  definitions ;  and  considered  either  binding  or  not,  as 
the  philosophic  pride  of  abstinence,  or  the  Epicurean 
sentiment  of  indulgence,  predominated  in  the  minds 
of  its  expositors*.      Coelius  was  acquitted  by  the 
general  sentence  of  his  judges  of  the  charges  brought 
against  him,  not  more  probably  in  consequence  of 
the  exertions  of  his  defenders  t  than  of  the  impru- 
dence of  his  enemies,  who,  in  attempting  his  ruin,  had 
overlooked  the  common  danger  of  proving  too  much. 
If  it  were  necessary  to  produce  a  document  which 
to  a  greater  extent  than  any  in  existence  would  throw 
light  upon  the  besetting   weakness   of   Cicero,    the 
celebrated  letter  to  Lucceius  J,  referable  to  this  stage 
of  his  history,  might  be  selected  for  the  purpose.    Of 
his  eatremess  to  enlist  the  services  of  men  of  talent 
for  the  celebration  of  his  consulate,  instances  have 
been  already  seen.    But  in  his  epistle  to  the  historian 


*  Dr  Middletoa's  criticism  upon  the  oration  for  Coelius  is  sin- 
gularly  marked  by  the  partiality  of  tlie  biographer :—"  In  this 
speech  Cicero  treats  the  character  and  gallantncs  of  Clodia,  and 
the  gaieties  and  licentiousness  of  youth  with  such  a  vivacity  of  wit 
and  humour,  that  makes  it  one  of  the  most  eutertaming  which  he 
has  left  to  us."     The  vivacity  is  at  least  of  a  most  questionable 

di&iTuctcr 

f  Marcus  Crassus,  as  well  as  Cicero,  was  engaged  as  advocate 

in  the  cause.  .         ,    .    ,  i.    r 

t  Ad  Diversos,  V.  12.  In  the  chronological  arrangement  of 
Schutz,  this  epistle  is  placed  between  the  fifth  and  sixth  letters  of 
the  fourth  book  of  the  correspondence  of  Cicero  with  Atticus,— 
a  date  ascertained  by  the  mention  made  of  it  by  the  writer  him- 
self: (Ad  Attic,  iv.6.)  "Epistolam  Lucceio  nunc  quam  misi, 


248 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE  LIFE   OF   CICERO* 


249 


in  question,  his  morbid  appetite  for  fame  transcends 
all  moderation,  and  hurries  him  into  a  degree  of 
meanness,  which  may  be  proclaimed  almost  unparal- 
leled, and  which,  if  incontrovertible  evidence  of  it 
did  not  exist,  would  certainly  be  pronounced  incre- 
dible. The  first  part  of  it,  and  it  is  unnecessary  to 
quote  the  whole  in  corroboration  of  this  disgraceful 
truth,  is  as  follows  :— 

"  MARCUS    CICERO  WISHES    HEALTH    TO    LUCIUS    LUC- 
CEIUS,  THE  SON  OF  QUINTUS. 

"  I  have  frequently  intended  to  converse  with  you 
on  the  subject  of  this  lettvr,  but  a  certain  almost 
rustic  modesty  has  hitherto  restrained  me  from  pro- 
posing in  person  what  I  can,  with  less  scruple, 
request  at  this  distance ;  for  a  letter  spares  the  con- 
fusion of  a  blush.  I  will  own  then  that  I  am  inflamed 
with  an  incredible,  yet,  as  I  believe,  by  no  means  a 
culpable  desire  of  being  rendered  celebrated  and  illus- 
trious by  your  writings,  and  although  you  have  more 
than  once  given  me  assurance  of  your  intending  me 
that  honour,  yet  I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  impa- 
tience of  seeing  that  design  executed.  I  had  always, 
indeed,  conceiveil  a  high  expectation  of  your  per- 
formances in  this  kind ;  but  the  specimen  I  have 
lately  seen  of  tliem,  is  so  far  superior  to  all  I  had 
figured  in  my  imagination,  that  it  has  fired  me  with 
the  most  ardent  desire  of  being  immediately  distin- 
guished in  your  glorious  annals.  It  is  my  ambition, 
I  confess,  not  only  to  live  for  ever  in  the  praises  of 
future  ages,  but  to  have  the  present  satisfaction  like- 
wise of  seeing  myself  stand  approved  in  the  authori- 
tative records  of  my  ingenious  friend.  I  am  sensible, 
at  the  same  time,  that  your  thoughts  are  already 
deeply  engaged  in  the  prosecution  of  your  original 
design.  But,  as  I  perceive  you  have  almost  com- 
pleted your  account  of  the  Italic  and  Marian  civil 


( 


wars,  and  remember  you  proposed  to  carry  on  the 
remainder  of  our  history  in  a  regular  series,  I  cannot 
forbear    recommending    it    to    your    consideration, 
whether  it  would  be  best  to  weave  the  relation  of 
Catiline's  conspiracy  into  the  general  texture  of  your 
performance,  or  cast  it  into  a  distinct  work.     It  is 
certain  several  of  the  Greek  historians  will  justify 
you  in  this  latter  method.    Thus,  CaUisthenes  wrote 
a  narrative  of  the  siege  of  Troy,  as  both  Timaus  and 
Polybius  did  of  the  Pyrrhic  and  Numantine  wars,  in 
so  many  detached  pieces  from  their  larger  histories. 
As  to  the  honour  that  will  arise  to  me,  it  will  be 
much  the  same,  I  must  own,  upon  whichever  scheme 
you  may  determine  to  proceed ;  but  I  shall  receive 
so  much  the  earlier  gratification  of  my  wishes,  if, 
instead  of  waiting  till  you  regularly  advance  to  that 
period  of  our  annals,  you  should  enter  upon  it  by  this 
method  of  anticipation.  Besides,  by  keeping  your  mind 
attentive  to  one  principal  scene  and  character,  you 
will  treat  your  subject,  I  am  persuaded,  so  much  the 
more  in  detail,  as  well  as  embellish  it  with  higher 
graces.     I   must   acknowledge  it  is  not  extremely 
modest  thus  to  hnpose  a  task  upon  you  which  your 
occupations  may  well  justify  you  in  refusing;  and 
then  to  add  a  further  request,  that  you  would  honour 
my  actions  with  your  applause,  an  honour  which, 
perhaps  after  all,  you  may  not  think  they  greatly 
deserve.     However,   when  a  man  has  once  trans- 
gressed the  bounds  of  decency,  it  is  in  vain  to  recede, 
and  his  wisest  way  is  to  push  on  boldly  in  the  same 
confident  course  to  the  end  of  his  purpose.     I  will 
venture  then  earnestly  to  entreat  you  not  to  confine 
yourself  to  the  strict  laws  of  history  *,  but  to  give  a 

•  The  original  is  still  more  forcible  ;  — "  Itaque  te  plane 
etiam  atque  etiam  rogo,  ut  at  ernes  ea  vehementius  etiam 
quam  fortasse  sentis,  et  in  eo  leges  historise  negligas;  gratiam- 
quc  illam,  de  qua   suavigsime  quodam  in  procemio  scripasti,  ea  si 


250 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO; 


greater  latitude  to  your  encomiums  than  possibly  you 
may  think  my  actions  can  claim.  I  remember,  in- 
deed, you  declare  in  one  of  your  very  elegant  prefaces, 
that  you  are  as  inflexible  to  all  the  pleas  of  affection 
as  Xenophon  represents  Hercules  to  have  been  to 
those  of  pleasure.  Let  me  hope,  nevertheless,  if 
friendship  should  too  strongly  recommend  my  actions 
to  your  approbation,  you  will  not  reject  her  generous 
partiality,  but  give  somewhat  more  to  affection  than 
rigorous  truth  can  justly  demand. 

"  If  I  should  prevail  upon  you  to  fall  in  with  my 
proposal,  you  will  find  the  subject,  I  persuade  my- 
self, not  unworthy  of  your  genius  and  your  eloquence. 
The  entire  period,  from  tlie  rise  of  Catiline's  con- 
spiracy to  my  return  from  banishment,  will  furnish, 
I  should  imagine,  a  moderate  volume.  It  will  supply 
you  likewise  with  a  noble  occasion  of  displaying 
your  judgment  on  politics,  by  laying  open  the  source 
of  these  civil  disorders,  and  pointing  out  their  proper 
remedies,  as  well  as  by  giving  your  reason  for  ap- 
proving or  condemning  the  treachery  or  perfidious- 
ness  of  those  who  laid  their  ungenerous  snares  for  my 
destruction.  I  will  add,  too,  that  this  period  of  my 
life  will  furnish  you  with  numberless  incidents,  which 
cannot  but  draw  the  reader's  attention  in  a  very 
agreeable  manner  ;  as  nothing  is  more  amusing  to 
the  mind  than  to  contemplate  the  various  vicissitudes 
of  fortune :  and  though  they  were  far,  it  is  true, 
from  being  acceptable  in  experience,  they  cannot  fail 
of  giving  me  much  entertainment  in  description,  as 
there  is  an  inexpressible  satisfaction  in  reflecting,  at 

me  tibi  vehementius  commendabit,  ne  aspemere."  In  his  fervour 
of  supplication,  he  beseeches  the  historian,  without  disguise,  again 
and  again,  to  employ  a  much  more  elaborate  and  ornamental 
panegyric  upon  bis  consulate  than  his  own  conscience  might  surest 
that  it  deserved,  and  leave  behind  him  on  this  occasion  the  ordinary 
laws  of  history,  i.  «.,  sobriety  and  truth. 


1 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  251 

one's  ease,  on  distresses  we  have  formerly  suffered. 
There  is  something,   likewise,    in  that  compassion 
which  arises  from  reading  an  account  of  the  misfor- 
tunes which  have  attended  others,  that  casts  a  most 
agreeable  melancholy  on  the  mind.     Who  can  peruse 
the  relation  of  the  last  moments  of  Epaminondas  at 
the  battle    of  Mantinea,    without    finding    himself 
touched  with  a  pleasing  commiseration  ?     That  glo- 
rious chief,   you  may  remember,  would  not  suffer 
the  dart  to  be  drawn  out  of  his  side,  till  he  was  in- 
formed that  his   shield  was  safe  from  the  hands  of 
his  enemies  ;  and  all  his  concern,  amidst  the  anguish 
of  his  wound,  was  to  die  with  glory.     What  can  be 
more  interesting,  also,  than  the  account  of  the  flight 
and  death  of  Themistocles  ?    The  truth,  if  it  is  a 
mere  narrative  of  general  facts,  affords  little  more 
entertainment  to  the  reader  than  he  might  find  in 
perusing  one  of  your  public   registers ;  whereas,   in 
the  history  of  any  extraordinary  person,   our  fear 
and  hope,  our  joy  and  sorrow,  our  astonishment  and 
expectation,  are  each   of  them    engaged  by  turns. 
And  if  the  final  result  of  all  should  be  concluded 
with  some  remarkable  catastrophe,  the  mind  of  the 
reader  is  filled  with  the  highest  possible  gratifica- 
tion.    For  these  reasons,  I  am  the  more  desirous  of 
persuading  you  to  separate  my  story  from  the  general 
thread   of  your  narrative,  and  work  it  up   into  a 
detached  performance,  as  indeed  it  will   exhibit  a 
great  variety  of  the  most  interesting  and  affecting 


* »» 


scenes  . 

Csesar  having  returned  to  Lucca  towards  the  close 
of  the  year  a.  u.  c.  698,  was  joined  in  that  town  by 
Pompey  and  Crassus,  together  with  a  number  of  the 
Roman  nobility,  who  flocked  thither  to  pay  their 
court  to  the  victorious  general,  in  the  hope  of  se^ 
curing,  by  an  early  place  in  his  esteem,   some  sub- 

•  Melmoth's  Letters  of  Cicero. 


252  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

stantial  benefit  to  themselves  from  his  daily  increas- 
ing influence  in  the  state.     At  the  councils  of  the  I 
triumvirate  which    ensued,  it  was  determined  that  j 
the   two   Gauls   should   be   secured    to    Caesar   for 
five  years  longer,    and  that  Pompey  and    Crassus 
should  enjoy  the  consulate  for  the  year  following ; 
after  which'  the  government  of  Spain,  for  the  space 
of  five  years,  was  to   be  entrusted   to  the   former, 
and  that  of  Syria,   with  the  power  of  conducting  a 
war  against  Parthia,  to  the  latter.     Upon  this  agree- 
ment,  the    confederates  separated; — Crassus    and 
Pompey    returning    to    prosecute    their    ambitious 
designs  at  Rome,   while  Caesar  proceeded  to  make 
bis   preparations  for  a  campaign    more  memorable 
than  any  which  he  has  recorded  in  the  eyes  of  an 
English  reader,  inasmuch  as  it  terminated  by  exhi- 
biting the  eagles  of  his  legions,   for  the  first  time, 
to  the  gaze  of  the   wild  defenders  of  the  coast  of 
Britain,   and  of  convincing  his  adventurous  troops 
of  the  actual  position  of  an  island,  the  very  existence 
of  which  had  been  to  that  time  considered  a  matter 
of  very  considerable  doubt*. 

The  resolution  of  the  triumvirs  to  obtain  the  con- 
sulate for  two  of  their  own  body  was  not  taken  until 
after   the  usual   time   of  holding  the   comitia   had 
passed,  and  was  in  a  great  measure  prompted  by  the 
appearance  of  Lucius  Domitius  Ahenobarbus   as  a 
candidate;  who,    with  singular    boldness,   did  not 
attempt  to  disguise  his  confident  expectation  of  being 
elected  to  the  office,  or  the  use  he  intended  to  make 
of  it  ;  openly  giving  out  that  one  of  his  first  steps 
after  his  return  would  be  to  rescind  the  recent  acts  of 
Csesar.     So  great,  however,  was  the  general  dread 
of  the   triumvirate,  that  he  was   suffered  to  stand 
alone  in  his  opposition  to  the  powers  by  whom  the 
whole  machinery  of  the  government  was  regulated, 
*  Plutarch  in  C«». ;  Suetonius,  Jul.  xxy. 


^< 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  253 

not    a  single  individual    presenting  himself  as    his 
fellow  candidate.     The  tribune  Marcus  Cato,  more- 
over, exerted  the  whole  of  his  authority  agamsthim, 
and  by  frequently  forbidding  the  comitia,  brought 
the  year  to  a  close  without  any  election  whatever  of 
public  officers.     An  interregnum  therefore  ensued  for 
some  months,  as  a  consequence  of  which,  Crassus  and 
Pompey,  who  had  before  neglected  to  profess  them- 
selves candidates  in  opposition  to  Domitms  withm 
the  time  prescribed  by  law,   were  enabled  to  stand 
for  the  honour  to  which  he  was  aspiring,   and  were 
with  little  difficulty  returned*.     Porcius  Cato,  at 
the  same  time,  appeared  as  candidate  for  the  praetor- 
ship  ;  but  after  the  election  had  been  frequently  de- 
layed by  the  new  consuls,  was  ultimately  repulsed,-- 
the  infamous  Vatinius  being  elected  in  his   stead. 
The  stoical  patriot  was,  however,  by  no  means  de- 
terred from  exercising  his  censure  on  all  occasions 
upon  the  policy  of  the  triumvirate ;  and  when  the 
motion  respecting  the  extension  of   the   period    of 
Char's  government  in  Gaul,  and  the  assignment  ot 
Spain  and  Syria  to  his  colleagues,  came  before  the 
senate,    opposed   it  so  warmly,  that  he  was  com- 
mitted to  prison  by  the  tribune  Caius  Treboniust. 

Piso,  the  proconsul   of  Macedonia,  had,  in   the 
meantime,  as  well  as  Gabinius,  received  his   recal, 
and  was  obliged,  however  reluctantly,  to  obey  the 
summons.     He  reached  Rome  shortly  after,  but  was 
so  conscious  of  the  opinion  prevalent  with  respect 
to  his  misconduct  in  his  province,  that  on  reaching 
the  gates  of  the  city,  he  commanded  his  hctors  to 
remove  the  laurel  from  their  fasces,   and  retired  to 
his  house  with  as  small  a  retinue,  and  in  as  unosten- 
tatious a  manner  as  possible,    attempting   by  this 
means  to  avoid  attracting  the  notice  of  the  populace. 

*  Dio  CassiuB,  xxxix. 

t  Liv.  Epit.  cv. ;  Fasti  Hellenici,  iii.  1 88. 


254 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO; 


It  had  been  well  for  him  if  he  had  continued  to  make 
use  of  the  same  precautions  against  publicity.     But  a 
few  days  afterwards  he  was  incautious  enough,  in  his 
vexation   at  being  removed  from   a  government  in 
which  "he  had  promised  himself  a  long  licence  for  plun- 
der, to  indulge  in  a  series  of  splenetic  assertions  against 
Cicero,  in  which  he  charged  Jiim  with  having  effect- 
ed  his  recall  from  envious   and  malicious  motives. 
The  reply  to  his  accusation  was  one  of  the  severest 
invectives  ever  hurled  against  corruption  and  guilt 
by  the  genius  of  the  terrible  antagonist  he  had  pro- 
voked.     Cicero  had  been  probably  long   lying  in 
wait  for  this  opportunity,  which  nothing  but  the 
most  complete  infatuation  on  the  part  of  Piso  could 
have  afforded  him,  and  opened  the  whole  stores  of 
his  hoarded  detestation  to  strengthen  and  embitter 
his  eloquence  on  the    occasion.      His  speech  is  not 
the  deliberate  and  stern  reproof  of  one  whom  length 
of  time  has  disarmed  of  personal  resentment,  while 
it  has   left  unimpaired  his  conviction  of  the  guilt 
and  worthlessness  of  the  object  of  his  censure.     If 
Piso  had  only  the  day  before  driven  the  orator  into 
banishment,  fired  his  house,  and  insulted  his  family, 
he  could  not  have  been  assailed  by  the  object  of  his 
persecution  with  a  more  startling  burst  of  energetic 
indignation  than  that  elicited  by  his  remarks ;  which 
resembles,  in  fierceness*  and  vehemence,  the  sudden 

•  A  perfect  vocabulary   of  Latin  abuse  might  be  procured  from 

the  oration  against  Piso.    Among  other  appellations,  he  is  termed 

importuna  bcllua,  furcifer,  coenum,  Epicure  noster  ex  har&  pro- 
ducte  non  ex  schola  (our  friend  Epicurus  here,  not  from  the  school 
but  the  sty,)  casnifex,  immanissimum  ac  foedissimum  monstrum, 
vulturius  provinciae  imperator,  vorago  reipublicoe,  furia,  pestis  et 
labes,  bustum  reipublicae,  seel  us,  tenebrae,  sordes,  lutum,  &c.  &c. 
The  pseudo-philosophic  aspect  of  the  ex-consul  is  coarsely,  yet 
most  vividly,  depictured  :  «•  You  have  crept  into  honours,'"  ex- 
claims the  orator,  ♦'  by  the  madness  of  men,  and  recommended 
by  the  smoky  busts  of  your  ancestors,  which   vou  resemble  in 


\ 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO:  255 

outbreak  and  descent  of  an  Alpine  torrent,  in  a 
moment  prostrating,  surmounting,  or  bearing  before 
it  every  obstacle  which  might  be  expected  to  im- 
pede the  rush  of  its  excited  waters.  The  speaker 
does  not  omit  the  opportunity  of  descanting  upon  the 
glories  of  his  own  consulship  in  comparison  with  the 
former  administration  of  his  enemy.  He  draws  a 
most  frightful  picture  of  the  misery  of  the  provinces 
presided  over  by  Piso  and  his  recent  colleague ; 
and  concludes,  after  bringing  in  rapid  succession  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  his  auditors  the  once  noble  cities  and 
districts  upon  which  the  subject  of  his  denunciations 
had  been  suffered  to  exercise  his  cruelties  and  extor- 
tions at  pleasure,  amidst  a  blaze  of  impassioned 
rhetoric,  in  which  tlie  words,  prompted  by  his 
glowing  imagination,  seem  to  crowd  upon  him  almost 
too  fast  for  expression*. 

Cicero  had  been  summoned  to  this  hostile  encoun- 
ter, from  the  delightful  retirement  of  his  villa  near 
Puteoli,  at  a  season  when  the  seductive  coast  in  its 
neighbourhood  had  assumed  its  most  beautiful  aspect. 
Here  he  had  lately  been  giving  himself  up  to  the 
indulgence  of  a  brief  interval  of  leisure,  devoted  to  a 

nothing  but  colour.*^  And  again, — ''  When  produced  before  th 
assembly,  and  asked  your  opinion  respecting  my  consulship,  you 
reply,  respectable  authority  as  you  are,  with  one  eyebrow  elevated 
to  your  forehead,  and  the  other  brought  to  a  level  with  your  chin, 
that  you  were  never  a  friend  to  cruelty  !"  Gabinius  is  treated  with 
equal  severity.  Saltatrix  tonsa,  gin-gcs,  concinnus  helluo, — are 
some  of  the  mildest  appellations  bestowed  upon  him. 

*  The  beauty,  power,  and  dignity  of  the  final  paragraph  could 
scarcely  be  transferred  into  any  other  language.  **  Nunquam  ego 
sanguinem  expetivi  tuum  — nunquam  illud  extremum,  quod  posset 
esse  improbis  et  probis  commune,  supplicium  legis  et  judicii — sed 
abjectum,  contemptum,  dospectum  a  ceteris — a  teipso  desperatum 
et  reliclum — circumspectantem  omnia — quicquid  increpuisset 
pertimescentem — diffidenlem  tuis  rebus — sine  voce — sine  libertate 
— sine  ulla  specie  consulari  ;  horrentem,  trementem,  adulantem 
omnes,  videre  te  volui. — Vidi,"  &c. — In  Pisonem,  xli. 


256 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


i 


studious  examination  of  the  library  of  Faustus  the 
son  of  Sylla;  one  of  the  best  in  Italy,  and  supposed  to 
have  been  chiefly  acquired  by  his  father,  during  the 
course  of  his  spoliations  pursued  in  Greece,  after  his 
sanguinary  asssault    and  capture   of  Athens.     ^ "  I 
would  rather,"    he    writes  to  Atticus  at  this  time, 
"  occupy  the  little  seat  which  you  have  fixed  under 
your  bust  of  Aristotle,  than  the  curule  chair  of  our 
highest  magistrates,  and   enjoy  my   friendly   vvalk 
with  you,  than  with  him  whom  I  am  now  obliged 
to  make  my  associate*."     He  probably  alluded   to 
Pompey,  with   whom,  during  a  short   residence  of 
the  latter  at  his  villa  near   Cumae,   he  appears  to 
have  exchanged  visits.     But  the  writer,  if  sincere, 
little  knew   his  own   heart.     To  him,  as  to  every 
other  statesman  infected  with  the  feVer  of   ambi- 
tion,   retirement,    however    accompanied    with    the 
delights  of  literature,  unless  at  the  same  time  afford- 
ing an  opportunity  for  contemplating  recent  triumphs 
or  meditating  upon  fresh  means  to  attract  the  popu  • 
lar  gaze,  was,  as  his  exile  might  have  taught  himself^ 
and  has  taught  every  inquirer   into  his  character, 
a  state  of  unqualified  wretchedness.     Soon  after  his 
return  to  Rome,  and  within  a  few  days  of  the  delivery 
of  the  oration  against  Piso,  he  was  a  witness  of  the 
magnificent    games   exhibited   by   Pompey   at   the 
dedication  of  his  theatre.     Of  all  the  entertainments 
yet  exhibited  in  that  city,  this  appears  to  have  been 
the  most  costly  and  imposing.     Hitherto  all  buildings 
reared  for  the  exhibition  of  dramatic  entertainments 
had  been  mere  temporary  erections.     That  recently 
finished,  however,  was  of  hewn  stone,  and  spacious 
enoutyh  to  contain  at  least  forty  thousand  spectatorst. 

O . -■   ■^- '    '       ■  ■  ■    — 

*    Ad  Attic,  iv.  10. 
t  Plin.  Nat.  Hist,  xxxvi.  247.— A  few  vestiges  of  this  structure, 
tvliich  Tertullian  calls  an  "  arx  turpitudinum,"  and  probably  with 
abundant  reason,  yet  remain. 


P 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  257 

In  order  to  avoid  the  scandal  of  the  expenditure  of 
the  enormous  sums  required  for  its  completion  upon 
the  simple  purposes  of  amusement,   the  stupendous 
edifice  was  dedicated  as  a  temple  to  Venus  Victrix, 
whose  shrine,  of  elaborate  workmanship,  surmounted 
the  whole,  so  that  the  marble  benches  on  which  the 
spectators  were  seated,  appeared,    from  below,  Hke 
steps  leading  to  the  sanctuary  of  the  goddess.     A 
senate-house  was  erected  close   beside  it,  that  the 
members  of  the  great  council  of  the  state  might  be  able 
to  repair  at  once  from  the  transaction  of  more  serious 
business  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  public  spectacles,  to- 
gether with  a  basilica  for  the  administration  of  justice, 
and  porticoes  for  the  protection  of  the  people. in  unfa- 
vourable weather.    An  innumerable  host  of  statues,  ac- 
cording to  the  prevailing  custom  of  the  time,  were  em- 
ployed in  ornamenting  these  buildings,  and  the  refined 
judgment  of  Atticus  was  respectfully  consulted  in  their 
distribution.  In  a  letter  to  Marcus  Marius,  Cicero  gives 
a  full  account  of  the  nature  of  the  shows  exhibited  at 
the  consecration  of  the  whole  :    "  Our  late  entertain- 
ments," he  writes,    "although    of  the  most  costly 
description,  would  hardly  have  suited  your  taste,  if  I 
may  judge  of  it  by  the  character  of  my  own.    For,  in 
the  first  place,  those  performers,  who  ought  long  ago 
to  have  bid  farewell  to  the  stage  for  the  sake  of  their 
own  credit,  have  been,  merely  by  way  of  compliment, 
brought  forward  anew.     Your  old  favourite  ^Esopus 
acquitted  himself  in  such  a  manner,   that  all  men 
were  perfectly  willing  to  grant  him  his  dismissal  from 
service.     At  the  commencement  of  his  oath,  and  on 
coming  to  the  words,  *  If  knowingly  I  deceive,'  his 
voice  utterly  failed.      Why  should  I  mention  the 
other  spectacles  ?      They   were  such   as   you    have 
long    been  acquainted  with,   without   even  the  at- 
traction which  those  produced  at  far  less  expense 
usually  possess.     The  contemplation  of  their  extra- 


258 


THE   LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


259 


vagance  was  enough  to  destroy  all  enjoyment — 
extravagance  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  you  are  not 
sorry  to  have  missed.  For  what  amusement  could  the 
six  hundred  mules  introduced  in  the  "  Clytemnestra," 
or  the  three  thousand  warriors  in  the  Trojan  horse,  or, 
in  short,  the  variety  of  arms  both  of  infantry  and 
cavalry, in  any  kind  of  combat  be  supposed  to  convey? 
— means,  I  allow,  of  attracting  the  wonder  of  the 
multitude,  but  which,  to  you,  must  have  been  totally 
destitute  of  interest.  If,  indeed,  you  have  all  this 
time  been  devoting  yourself  to  listening  to  the  read- 
ings of  Protogenes,  supposing  only  that  you  have  not 
employed  him  on  my  orations,  you  have  assuredly 
received  no  inconsiderable  degree  of  pleasure,  and  more 
than  any  among  us.  For,  I  presume,  you  do  not 
regret  the  loss  either  of  the  Oscan  or  Grecian  plays, 
since  you  may,  at  anytime,  seethe  former  performed 
in  our  own  senate*,  and  the  Greeks  you  so  thoroughly 
detest,  that  you  will  not  even  visit  your  country-seat 
by  the  Grecian  road.  Neither  can  I  for  a  moment 
think  that  you  lament  your  absence  from  the  contests 
of  the  athletae,  since  you  despise  even  those  of  our 
gladiators  ;  and,  indeed,  even  Pompey  himself  ac- 
knowledges that  he  has  wasted  upon  the  former  both 
his  oil  and  his  labour. 

"  I  have  yet  to  mention  the  hunts,  which  lasted  for 
five  days,  and  were,  I  must  allow,  magnificent  enough. 
Yet,  what  delight  can  be  imparted  to  a  polished 
mind,  when  a  feeble  mortal  is  torn  to  pieces  by  an 
animal  of  enormous  strength,  or  a  noble  beast  is 
transfixed  with  the  spear  of  its  pursuer  ?  Even  if 
these  sights  were  worth  beholding,  they  are  such  as 
you  must  have  often  witnessed.  I,  for  my  part,  who 
was  a  looker  on,  was  unable  to  discover  any  novelty 

*  A  biting  sarcasm  against  the  aristocratic  order.  The  Osci 
were  an  ancient  people  of  Italy,  famous  for  the  scurrilous  and  licen- 
tious character  of  their  farces. 


!<, 


■    1 


in  the  exhibition.  The  last  day  was  entirely  devoted 
to  the  elephants,  in  the  massacre  of  which,  if  there 
was  something  to  excite  the  wonder  of  the  vulgar, 
there  was  little  to  give  them  any  pleasure.  Nay, 
there  was  even  a  certain  sense  of  commiseration  pre- 
valent after  the  entertainment,  and  a  very  general 
opinion  that  the  creatures,  thus  destroyed,  must  be 
in  some  way  closely  connected  in  their  faculties 
with  the  human  race*. 

"  That  I  may  not  appear  to  you  to  have  been, 
during  these  festivities,  not  only  at  the  height  of 
felicity,  but  in  the  enjoyment  of  perfect  freedom, 
know  that  I  have  almost  caused  my  own  death,  by 
my  exertions  in  favour  of  your  friend  GallusCaninius. 
If  I  had  to  deal  with  people  as  willing  to  dismiss  me 
from  service  as  they  appear  to  be  with  regard  to 
^sopus,  most  willingly  would  I  forswear  my  art, 
and  spend  the  rest  of  my  days  in  company  with 
yourself  and  those  who  most  resemble  you.  Weary 
and  disgusted  as  I  was  long  ago,  when  fewer  years 
and  greater  ambition  excited  me  to  exertion,  and 
when  I  still  possessed  the  liberty  of  declining  the 
defence  of  all  whom  I  was  unwilling  to  aid,  I  am 

*  Either  seventeen  or  twenty  of  these  noble  animals  were  in- 
humanly put  to  death  on  the  occasion.  Pliny  has  given  an  affecting 
account  of  the  scene.  The  hunters,  it  appears,  were  Gsetulians, 
armed  with  African  bucklers  and  slender  spears,  which  they  used  as 
javelins.  The  elephants,  as  soon  as  the  attack  upon  them  was 
commenced,  ran  around  the  arena,  making  violent  attempts  to 
escape,  to  the  great  consternation  of  the  spectators,  although  they 
were  guarded  by  a  massive  railwork  of  iron,  and  on  finding  their 
attempts  hopeless,  turned  to  the  people  uttering  hideous  sounds,  in- 
dicative of  their  despair,  which  were  so  perfectly  intelligible,  that 
the  whole  multitude  arose  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  and  forgetful  of 
the  efforts  of  Pompey  for  their  amusement,  uttered  curses  upon 
him  for  his  cruelty. — (Nat.  Hist.  viii.  67.)  Yet,  the  praise  of 
humanity  is  not  to  be  conceded  to  a  Roman  crowd  for  this  transient 
emotion,  the  effect  of  novelty  alone.  The  sufferings  of  their  own 
species,  under  similar  circumstances,  would,  assuredly,  have  been 
utterly  disregarded. 

s2 


260 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


I 


now  reduced  to  the  lowest  condition  of  discourage- 
ment.    No  single  advantage  do  I  anticipate  from  my 
present  labours,  and  the  protection,  even  of  my  ene- 
mies, I  am  now  obliged  to  undertake  at  the  request  of 
those  to  whom  I  am  under  obligations*."     The  last 
hint,  which  may  be  considered  as  the  voice  of  expiring 
independence,  a  voice  which  expressed  itself  more  fully 
in  some   of  his  subsequent  epistles,  manifestly  indi- 
cates the  extent  to  which  Cicero  was  now  entangled 
by  the  trammels  of  the  triumvirate.     His  time,  for 
some  months  afterwards,  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
much  occupied  by  public  business.   It  is  certain  that 
a  great  portion  of  it  was  devoted  to  his  celebrated 
work   "  De  Oratore,"  which  was  finished  before  the 
close  of  the  yeart.     Of  this  beautiful  dialogue,  sup- 
posed to  have  been  commenced  beneath  the  spreading 
planes  of  TusculumJ,  between  Crassus,  Antonius, 
Cotta,  Sulpicius,  and  others,  who  had  constituted,  in 
the  preceding  generation,  a  bright  constellation    of 
talent  in  the  Roman  forum,  the  matter  is  too  various 
to  allow  of  a  formal  analysis.     It  may  be  sufficient 
to  state,  that  it  appears  in  every  respect  worthy  of 
the  distinguished  orators  from  whom  it  is  supposed 
to  emanate,  and  not  less  so  of  the  great  master  whose 
sentiments   it   really   embodies.       On   the  different 
styles  of  pleading  pursued  by  the  ablest  orators  at 
the  Roman  bar,  the  forensic  wit  and  subtlety  of  anti- 
quity, or  rather  upon  the  general  principles  of  legal 
reasoning  and  rhetoric,  which    are   peculiar  to   no 
period,  nor  limited  to  any  place,  it  must  always  be 
considered  as  a  treatise  of  inestimable  value. 

At  whichever  of  his  villas  this  elaborate  essay  was 

*  Ad  Diversos,  vii.  1.  t  Fasti  Hellenici,  iii.  189. 

X  The  fondness  of  the  Romans  for  this  majestic  tree  is  well 
known.  The  earth  about  its  roots  was  frequently  moistened,  in 
order  to  increase  its  growth,  with  the  most  generous  wines,  and  its 
leaves  selected  as  the  appropriate  crown  of  the  fabled  Genius  of  their 
city  and  people. 


I 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


261 


I 


composed,  Cicero  had  returned  from  thence  to  the 
capital  some  time  before  the  year  had  expired,  as  is 
manifest    from   his   own  words.     He   had  thus  an 
opportunity  of  being    reconciled   to    Crassus,   with 
whom  he  had  latterly  been  on  indifferent  terms,  before 
the  triumvir  had  yet  set  out  from  Rome  for  his  pro- 
vince of  Syria.    The  reconciliation  was  brought  about 
by  means  of  Publius,  the   son   of  Crassus,  whom, 
with  one  of  the  noblest  armies  ever  ranged  beneath 
the  standard  of  the  republic,   his  avaricious   parent 
was  on  the  point  of  leading  to  a  speedy  and  unsparing 
destruction  on  the  distant  wastes  of  Mesopotamia ; 
and  it  is  a  circumstance  not  unworthy  of  record,  that 
Crassus  and  Cicero,  who  had  so  often  defended  the 
same  causes  in  the  forum,  and  stemmed  together  the 
tide  of  debate  in  the  senate-house,  supped  together  in 
the  gardens  of  Crassipes,  the  son-in-law  of  the  latter, 
situated   upon  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  immediately 
before  the  departure  of  the  devoted  general  upon  his 
calamitous  expedition,  so  that  the  orator  describes  him 
as  having  almost  set  out  from  his  own  hearth  to  com- 
mence  hostilities  against  the   Parthians  *.     Cicero 
immediately  afterwards  leaving  Rome,  had  reached 
hisTusculan  villa  on  the  15th  of  Novembert,  and  was 
in  the  enjoyment  of  its  tranquil  retirement,  while  the 
legions  of  Crassus  were  leaving  the  city  under  the  im- 
pressive circumstances  mentioned  in  the  graphic  nar- 
rative of  Plutarch.     As  the  Parthian  war  was  purely 
aggressive,   it  was  looked  upon  with  unfavourable 

*  Crassus,  uX  quasi  testata  populo  Romano  esset  nostra  gratia, 
pcene  a  meis  Laribus  in  provinciam  est  profectus.  Nam  cum  mihi 
condixisset,  coenavit  apud  me,  in  mei  generi  Crassipedis  hortis, — 
Ad  Diversos,  i.  9. 

t  He  seems,  however,  to  have  again  revisited  the  metropolis  before 
the  14  th  of  December,  in  order  to  be  present  at  the  marriage  of 
Milo  and  Fausta,  the  daughter  of  Sylla  :  "  Romae  a.  d.  Calend. 
volumus  esse:  quid  dico,  volumus?  immo  vero  cogimur.  Mi- 
Jonis  nuptifiB,"  &c. — Ad  Attic,  iv.  13. 


\ 


:./ 


262  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

eyes  by  the  majority  of  the  public,  who  were  disgusted 
with  the  ambition  and  covetousness  which  prompted 
a  man,  now  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age,  to  com- 
mence a  contest  of  great  difficulty  and  uncertain 
success,  solely  with  a  view  to  his  own  aggrandise- 
ment. The  general  discontent  found  a  voice  in  the 
tribune  Ateius,  who  threatened  to  interpose  his  ne- 
gative on  the  occasion  to  prevent  Crassus  from  leaving 
the  city,  and  the  departing  leader  was  obliged,  in  order 
to  avoid  a  serious  tumult,  to  request  Pompey  to  escort 
him  to  a  short  distance  without  the  walls  of  Rome. 
But  he  did  not  by  this  means  escape  an  interruption, 
which  even  to  a  modern  reader  does  not  appear  void 
of  a  solemn  and  awful  character.  Ateius,  it  is  related, 
had  erected  a  small  altar  near  the  gate  through  which 
Crassus  was  obliged  to  pass,  and  on  the  approach  of 
his  train  stood  forward  in  the  midst  of  the  street, 
and  forbade  him,  by  his  authority  as  tribune,  to  pro- 
ceed. But  on  finding  his  interposition  only  treated 
with  silent  contempt,  he  is  said,  as  if  possessed 
by  some  malignant  genius,  to  have  taken  his 
station  by  his  altar,  and  after  having  kindled  a  censer 
from  its  flame  and  sprinkled  incense  upon  it,  to  have  in- 
voked, with  horrible  imprecations,  certain  mysterious 
gods  whose  names  it  was  unlawful  publicly  to  pro- 
nounce, and  to  have  deliberately  devoted  Crassus  and 
his  whole  army  to  destruction.  The  procession  was 
then  allowed  to  proceed,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
appalling  ceremony  just  performed  sank  deeply  into 
the  minds  of  the  troops,  and  possibly  into  that  of  their 
commander,  and  contributed  in  some  degree  to  their 
subsequent  discomfiture.  The  recollection  of  Flami- 
nius,  who,  in  former  times,  had  left  the  city  inau- 
spiciously  to  command  at  the  fatal  battle  of  Thrasy- 
mene,  might  easily  appear  a  parallel  case.  Crassus, 
however,  pursued  his  way  to  Brundusium ;  while,  on 
the  news  of  the  approaching  tempedt,  Ctesiphon  and 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  263 

Seleucia  poured  forth  their  tremendous  archers 
towards  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  prepared  to  take 
fearful  vengeance  on  their  invaders  as  soon  as  they 
should  appear,  and  to  inflict  upon  the  eldest  of  the 
ambitious  fraternity  who  had  so  remorselessly  sacri- 
ficed the  peace  of  mankind  to  their  private  interests, 
the  violent  end  which  not  one  of  them  was  destined 
to  escape.  • 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Consulate  of  Lucius  Domitius  Ahenobarbua  and  Appius  Claudius 
Pulcher — Cicero  commences  his  Treatise  *'  De  Republica" — De- 
fends VatiniusandScaurus — Orations  for  Plancius,  Gabinius,  and 
Rabirius — Letters  to  Trebatius  and  Quintus  Cicero,  respecting 
the  Britannic  Expedition  of  Caesar — Disturbances  at  Rome — 
Triumph  of  Pontinus  —  Creation  of  Interreges — Consulate  of 
Calvinus  and  Messala — Canvass  of  Milo,  Scipio,  Hypsseus,  and 
Clodius — Tumults  in  consequence — Oration  on  the  Debts  of 
Milo — Clodius  is  slain  by  the  Followers  of  the  latter  at  Bovillee 
— Insurrection  at  Rome — Pompey  declared  sole  Consul — His 
New  Acts — Impeachment  of  Milo — Oration  of  Cicero  in  his 
Defence — Milo  retires  to  Marseilles — Prosecutions  against  the 
Clodian  Faction — Cicero  composes  his  Dialogue  *' De  Legibus" 
— He  is  appointed  to  the  ProcousuUhip  of  Cilicia,  and  sets  out 
for  his  Province. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  consulate  of  Lucius  Do- 
mitius Ahenobarbus  and  Appius  Claudius  Pulcher,* 
which  followed  that  of  Pompey  and  Crassus,  and  while 
the  last-mentioned  general  was  yet  in  Italy,  some 
attempts  appear  to  have  been  made  in  the  senate  to 
efiect  his  recall,  which  were  rendered  ineffectual  by 
the  misplaced  zeal  of  his  friends.  Cicero,  at  least,  in 
a  letter  addressed  to  him  which  is  yet  extant,  speaks 
of  having  defended  him  to  the  utmost  of  his  ability, 
both  against  the  consuls  for  the  year  and  several  in- 
dividuals of  consular  rank,  in  a  late  debate  respecting 

,  '  ■  - 

*  A.  u.  c.  700. 


264 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


265 


\ 


his  command.  The  letter  is  replete  with  the  warmest 
expressions  of  interest  in  his  welfare  ;  and  the  writer 
requests  that  it  may  not  be  considered  in  the  light  of 
an  ordinary  epistle,  but  as  a  formal  treaty  of  strict 
and  lasting  alliance  * .  He  also  speaks  in  the 
highest  terms  of  Publius  Crassus,  whom  he  repre- 
sents as  having  from  his  childhood  reverenced  and 
regarded  him  as  a  second  parent.  From  all  the 
incidental  notices  in  history  of  this  highly  accom- 
plished and  noble- spirited  youth,  whose  unhappy 
death  Plutarch  has  described  in  his  most  able  manner, 
it  does  not  appear  that  among  the  many  thousands 
who  fell  in  consequence  of  the  folly  and  infatuation  of 
his  father,  Rome  had  to  lament  any  citizen  more 
deserving  the  regret  of  his  countrymen. 

Nearly  at  the  same  time  was  probably  written  the 
epistle  of  Cicero  to  Julius  Caesarf ,  at  that  time  in 
Gaul,  and  preparing  for  his  second  expedition  into 
Britain,  recommending  his  friend  TrebatiusJ  to  his 
notice.  The  departure  from  Italy  of  his  brother 
Quintus,  who  had  accepted  the  office  of  legate  under 
the  same  commander,  took  place  soon  afterwards,  and 
was  followed  by  the  retirement  of  Cicero  for  a  short 
time  to  his  villas  near  Cumae  and  Pompeii,  where, 
during  this  interval  of  leisure,  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
composition  of  his  elegant  treatise  "  De  Republica§," 
towards  which  his  attention  was  devoted  for  a  great 
part  of  the  year.     The  design  of  the  work,  in  which 

*   Ad  Diversos,  v.  8.  "f  Ibid. 

X  The  **  docte  Trebate"  of  Horace,  to  whom  he  has  addressed 
the  second  satire  of  his  second  book.  Trebatius  was  a  person  of 
considerable  eminence  at  the  Roman  bar. 

§  Commenced  soon  after  vi.  of  the  Ides  of  May  (10th),  and 
before  the  Kalends  of  June  (1st).  The  work,  which  was  originally 
intended  to  consist  of  nine,  was  subsequently  written  in  six  books, 
and  published  some  time  before  the  month  of  May,  a.  u.  c.  703, 
B.  c.  51,  as  appears  by  the  letter  of  Coelius.  (Ad  Diversos,  viii.  1  ; 
Fasti  Hellenic!,  iii  191.)  That  it  was  begun  at  the  marine  villa 
near  Cumae,  may  be  inferred  from  the  letter  to  Quintus,  (Lib.ii.  14.) 


the  characters,  Scipio  Africanus,  Tubero,  Laslius, 
Mummius,  &c.,  are  represented  as  drawn,  during  a 
conversation  in  the  gardens  of  the  former  respecting 
the  atmospheric  phenomenon  of  two  suns  which  had 
been  lately  witnessed,  to  a  discussion  respecting 
the  best  form  of  a  national  government,  was  to 
exhibit  the  excellence  of  the  Roman  constitution 
in  its  best  estate,  as  well  as  to  represent  its  first 
origin,  the  steps  by  which  it  had  advanced  to  maturity, 
and  the  eventful  circumstances,  after  having  been 
long  tried  by  which,  it  finally  rose  triumphant,  and 
perfected  by  the  dangerous  ordeal.  With  all  its 
merits  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  this  beautifully 
worded  treatise  is  far  from  throwing  that  light  upon 
the  early  history  of  Rome,  which  might  have  been 
expected  from  the  talents  of  its  author.  Cicero 
seems  to  have  given  implicit  credence  to  the  com- 
mon legends,  current  in  his  own  and  at  a  much 
later  time,  respecting  the  infancy  of  the  Roman  state ; 
and  incredible  as  the  assertion  would,  until  very 
recently,  have  appeared,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  by 
the  more  philosophic  and  accurate  investigations  of 
modem  times,  the  most  youthful  student  of  history, 
removed  by  the  space  of  nearly  twenty  centuries 

Scribebam  ilia  quae  dixeram,  &c.  "  I  was  then  employed  upon 
the  political  treatise  of  which  I  had  made  mention,  a  weighty,  to 
speak  the  truth,  and  comprehensive  work.  ,  If  it  turns  out  according 
to  my  design,  my  trouble  will  be  well  bestowed.  If  not,  I  have 
but  to  cast  it  into  the  sea,  which  at  this  moment  forms  part  of  the 
prospect  before  me,  and  to  turn  my  attention  to  something  else,  for 
to  be  unemployed  is  not  in  my  nature."  Of  this  famous  treatise 
we  have  to  lament  the  almost  entire  loss  of  the  fourth,  fifth,  and 
sixth  books,  a  few  insignificant  fragments  of  which  alone,  if  we  except 
the  Somnium  Scipionis,  are  embedded,  like  portions  of  primary 
rocks  in  more  recent  strata,  in  the  works  of  Lactantius,  Nonius, 
Augustin,  &c.  Owing  to  the  researches  of  Angelo  Maio,  however, 
almost  the  whole  of  the  first,  the  greater  part  of  the  second,  and 
considerable  remains  of  the  third  book  are  yet  preserved  for  the 
curiosity  and  instruction  of  succeeding  ages. 


266 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


267 


from  the  time  of  Cicero,  possesses  a  more  extensive 
knowledge  of  the  true  nature  of  the  early  constitution 
of  Rome,  than  the  greatest  of  her  sages  and  philoso- 
phers could  acquire,  while  her  power  and  renown 
were  in  their  zenith.  The  reader  will,  perhaps,  hardly 
need  to  be  reminded,  that  the  highly  imaginative  and 
philosophic  "  Dream  of  Scipio,"  one  of  the  most 
noble  fragments  of  antiquity,  and  not  excelled  by  any 
thing  even  in  the  flowing  and  magnificent  composi- 
tions of  Plato,  formed  originally  part  of  the  conclud- 
ing book  of  Cicero's  Republic. 

In  the  midst  of  such  pursuits  he  was  recalled  to 
the  metropolis,  where  he  spent  a  great  part  of  the 
summer,  engaged  in  a  variety  of  causes,  which,  if  of 
no  great  importance  in  themselves,  were  sufficient  for 
some  time  to  occupy  the  whole  of  his  attention. 
Among  these  we  find  mentioned  in  his  letters  a  dispute 
between  the  corporation  of  Reate  and  the  people  of 
Interamna,  who  had  widened  the  outlet  of  tlie  Lake 
Velinus  into  the  Nar,  to  the  great  detriment  of  their 
neighbours,  by  increasing  the  drainage  to  the  plain  of 
Rosia.  At  Reate,  which  he  calls  an  Italian  Tempe, 
this  cause  was  pleaded  before  the  consul  Appius  and 
ten  commissioners,  and  determined  in  sufficient  time 
to  allow  the  orator  to  be  again  at  Rome  before  the 
conclusion  of  the  Apollinarian  games*  ;  on  appear- 
ing at  which,  he  states  that  he  was  received  with 
loud  applause  by  the  assembled  multitude.  His 
defence  of  Messius,  one  of  the  lieutenants  of  Caesar, 
who  had  been  recalled  from  Gaul  to  take  his  trial, 
succeeded,  and  was  followed  by  that  of  Drusus, 
Vatiniust,  and  ^milius  Scaurus;  the  first  accused 
under  the  law  against  what  was  termed  prevarica- 

•  Celebrated  on  the  5th  of  July. 

•f  Drusus  and  Vatinius  were  defended  on  the  same  day,  as 
appears  from  Ep.  ad  Quint,  ii.  16,  towards  the  end  of  July  or  in  the 
beginning  of  August. 


tion,  or  betraying  the  interests  of  a  client ;  the  second 
of  extortion,  exercised  in  the  province  of  Sardinia ; 
and  the  third  of  bribery  and  corruption.  All  of 
these  were  acquitted,  but  the  pleadings  in  the  several 
causes  have  perished,  with  the  exception  of  part  of 
the  oration  for  Scaurus,  which  is  among  the  dis- 
coveries lately  made  in  the  Ambrosian  library,  and  a 
few  detached  sentences  of  little  interest  quoted  by 
commentators*.  The  defence  of  Vatinius  brought  no 
small  scandal  upon  his  advocate,  since  Cicero  had 
made  him  the  mark  of  his  most  vehement  censure  no 
long  time  before ;  but  it  is  yet  to  a  great  extent 
doubtful,  whether  the  convictions  or  the  principles 
of  the  orator  were  proved  to  have  been  altered  by 
his  undertaking  the  protection  of  his  former  adver- 
sary, his  pleadings  on  the  subject  being  almost  en- 
tirely lost. 

In  a  letter  to  Lentulus,  of  much  greater  length 
than  integrity  would  have  demanded  for  its  defence, 
he  attempts  to  explain  this  inconsistency,  as  well 
as  the  singular  fact  of  his  having  not  only  lately 
appeared  in  the  character  of  counsel  for  Vatinius,  but 
even  as  a  witness  in  his  favour.  The  hollowness  of  his 
excuses,  however,  is  greatly  to  be  suspected,  and  the 
true  motive  for  his  conduct  but  too  likely  to  be 
found  in  his  wish  to  rise  in  the  esteem  of  Caesar,  of 
whose  ambition  Vatinius  had  long  been  the  abandoned 
instrument.  Nor  can  the  careless  levity  which  is 
exhibited  in  the  only  remaining  passage  of  his  speech 
in  the  cause,  on  a  point  of  vital  consequence  to  his 
own  honour,  be  considered  in  any  other  light  than  as 
tarnishing  his  character,  by  any  but  his  most  devoted 
panegyrists.  His  subserviency  to  the  designs  of 
the  triumvirs,  already  complete,  was,   in  fact,    now 

•  Judgment  was  given  in  the  case  of  Scaurus,  according  to 
Asconius,  on  the  11  th  of  September.  See  Scbutz,  Adnotationes  In 
Ciceronis,  Frag.  p.  230, 


268 


THE   LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


269 


called  daily  to  display  itself  more  openly,  espe- 
cially by  the  master  spirit  of  that  confederacy, 
who  having  long  ago  found  out  his  most  vulnerable 
point,  continued  with  singular  dexterity  to  avail  him- 
self of  it.  His  vanity  was  first  flattered  by  the  extra- 
ordinary honours  and  attentions  bestowed  by  Caesar 
on  his  brother  Quintus,  and  afterwards  by  com- 
munications to  himself,  couched  in  the  most  respect- 
ful and  friendly  terms.  "  I  imagine,"  he  writes  to 
Atticus  about  this  time,  "  by  letters  from  my  brother 
Quintus,  that  he  is  now  in  Britain.  I  am  extremely 
uneasy  till  I  hear  from  him.  There  is,  however,  one 
point  at  least  which  I  have  gained.  From  ^clear 
and  repeated  intimations,  I  learn  I  am  on  the  most 
affectionate  and  amicable  terms  with  Csesar." 

The  defence  of  PJancius  appears  to  have  followed 
that  of  Scaunis  *,  anS'ira  highly  creditable  record  of 
the  gratitude  of  Cicero  towards  one  who  had  for- 
merly befriended  him  in  a  season  of  distress.  While 
Plancius  was  quaestor  of  Macedonia  in  the  memorable 
period  of  his  exile,  he  had  found  at  Thessalonica, 
under  the  protection  and  countenance  of  this  generous 
friend,  a  safe  and  honourable  place  of  retreat,  with 
every  act  of  kindness  which  could  tend  to  soothe 
him  under  the  pressure  of  his  misfortune,  or  enliven 
the  despondency  by  which  his  troubled  spirit  was 
overcast.  It  was  now  in  his  power  to  return  the 
obligation,  and  he  was  not  wanting  to  the  oppor- 
tunity. Plancius,  after  being  elected  to  the  ofifice  of 
aedile,  was  accused  by  Marcus  Juventius  Laterensis, 
an  unsuccessful  candidate,  of  undue  influence  and 
bribery  during  his  canvass,  and  of  forming  associa- 
tions for  the  purpose  of  carrying  his  election  by  the 
same  unfair  means,  contrary  to  the  enactments  of  the 
Licinian  law.  By  the  exertions  of  Cicero,  however, 
the  accusation,  which  was  one  of  the  most  serious 

*  Ad  Quintum,  iii.  1. 


I 


kind,  was  rendered  ineffectual.   The  speech  delivered 
on  the  occasion  vet  remains,  and  does  honour  not 
only  to  the    talents    of   the    advocate,    but    to   the 
sentiments  of  the  man.     It  had  the  further  merit  of 
having  been   delivered  after  recent  conduct  on  the 
part  of  Plancius,  not  altogether  correspondent  with 
his  former  friendship.     Yet,  in  the  recollection  of 
Cicero,  the  obligations  conferred  upon  him  in  his  exile 
seem  alone  to  have  found  a  place.     All  other  con- 
siderations were  either  really  or  ostensibly  neglected 
in  his  conduct  of  the  defence,  in  which  it  is  not  impos- 
sible that  his  own  self-distrust,  and  the  fear  of  allow- 
ing any  late  causes  of  estrangement  to  operate  to  the 
disadvantage  of  his  client,  had  a  considerable  share 
in  producing  the  exceeding  zeal  for  the  interests  and 
honour  of  his  client,  which  is  conspicuous  through 
the  whole   oration.     His   subsequent   pleadings   in 
favour  of  his  old  enemy  Gabinius,  cannot  be  con- 
sidered as  equally  worthy  of  commendation.      That 
unjust  and  rapacious  oppressor,   on  the   instant   of 
his  return  from  his  province  of  Syria,  was  fiercely 
assailed  by  a  host  of  prosecutors,  who  were  eagerly 
watching   the  moment   of  his  arrival  at   Rome   to 
commence  a  series   of  legal  processes  against  him. 
He    had    no    sooner    entered    the    city,    therefore, 
which  he  did  with  all  imaginable  privacy,  although 
he  had  shortly  before  boasted  his  intention  of  de- 
manding a  triumph  from  the  senate,  than  he  was 
impeached  on  three  several  grounds :  first,  for  offences 
against  the  majesty  of  the  state,  or,  in  other  terms, 
for  high  treason,  in  daring,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
troops   entrusted  to   his   command,  to   re-establish 
Ptolemy  king  of  Egypt  in  his  dominions,  contrary 
to  all  religion  and  the  public  degree  against  it,  and 
for  quitting,  for  that  purpose,  the  province  under  his 
government,  which  was  thus  exposed  to  the  inroads 
of  numerous  and  dangerous  enemies ;  secondly,  for 


V 


270 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


plunder  and  spoliation  committed  by  him  in  Syria 
and  elsewhere ;  and,  thirdly,  for  the  common  offence 
of  bribery  and  corruption,  a  charge  which  now  seems 
to  have  constituted  part  of  almost  every  indictment. 
At  his  trial  upon  the  first  of  these  counts,  in  which  he 
was  acquitted,  Cicero  appeared  against  him  as  a  wit- 
ness ; — on  his  appearance  to  answer  to  the  third,  as  his 
strenuous  advocate.  For  an  explanation  of  such  a  re- 
markable contradiction  in  conduct,  we  need  seek  no 
other  evidence  than  his  own.  The  interference  of  Pom- 
pey  was  sufficient  to  render  him  the  defender  of  the 
very  criminal  against  whose  character  he  had  formerly 
hurled  every  epithet  of  abhorrence  which  his  ima- 
gination could  supply ;  respecting  whose  liability  to 
his  censure,  in  its  most  powerful  shape,  no  doubt 
seems  to  have  existed  ;  and  of  whom  he  speaks  in 
terms  of  unmeasured  disgust  and  contempt,  even  at 
the  very  moment  while  he  appears  to  have  been  medi- 
tating his  rescue  from  the  laws  which  he  had  so  shame- 
lessly and  repeatedly  violated.  The  eulogists  of  Cicero 
have  sometimes  urged  his  appearance  in  behalf  of 
G^toiU^as  a  proof  of  his  placable  and  forgiving  dis- 
position. On  the  testimony  of  his  correspondence,  it 
may  much  more  safely  be  received  as  a  fresh  instance 
of  his  servile  submission  to  the  ruling  powers.  Nor 
does  he  himself  seem  to  have  been  inclined  to  consider 
this  part  of  his  conduct  in  the  same  light  as  some  of 
his  admirers.  "  There  is  no  republic — no  senate — 
no  justice — no  dignity  in  any  of  us,"  is  his  compre- 
hensive and  candid  avowal ;  and  humiliating  as  the 
confession  is,  the  practical  commentary  upon  it  would 
hardly  justify  us,  so  far  as  Cicero  is  concerned,  in  an 
attempt  either  to  contradict  it  or  to  limit  its  mean- 
ing. Yet  the  integrity  of  the  judges  before  whom 
Gabinius  was  tried  was  greater  than  that  of  his  new 
advocate,  and  with  whatever  eloquence  the  oration 
in  his  defence,  which  has  since  perished,  might  have 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  271 

been  replete,   it  was  insufficient  to  counteract  the 
stubborn  evidence  of  the  facts  urged  against  him. 

The  last  cause  in  which  Cicero  was  engaged  during 
this  year  of  almost  unremitting  exertion,  was  that  of 
Caius  Rabirius  Posthumus;  a  member  of  the  eques- 
trian order,  accused  under  the  Julian  law  against 
extortion  by  Caius  Memmius,  as  well  as  of  treason 
against  the   republic.      Rabirius  was   supposed   to 
have  received  the  sums   advanced  by   Ptolemy  to 
Gabinius  for  the  services  of  the  proconsul  in  effecting 
his  restoration,  and  to  have  strenuously  counselled  the 
employment  of  the  Roman  troops  on  that  expedition. 
It  was,  at  least,  well  known  that  he  had  resided  in 
Alexatidria  as  tlie  agent  of  the  king  in  the  collection 
of  his  taxes,  and  that,  during  his  stay  in  the  city,  he 
had  assumed  the  Egyptian  habit.     The  defence  was 
grounded,  first,  upon  the  assumption  that  the  Julian 
law  did   not  extend  to  the  equestrian  order;   and, 
secondly,  on  the  fact  of  Rabirius  having  advanced 
considerable  sums  of  money  towards  defraying  the 
expenses  of  Ptolemy  at  Rome,  which,  it  was  repre- 
sented, rendered  his  residence  at  Alexandria  necessary 
for  the  recovery  of  the  debt.     In  pursuing  this  line 
of  argument,   Cicero  was  exposed  to  the  heaviest 
censures  of  the    counsel  for    the   prosecution,  who 
openly  accused  him  of  acting  entirely  by  the  direction 
of  Pompey,  and  at  variance  with  the  dictates  of  his 
own  conscience.     His  answer  to  the  charge,  taking 
credit  for  generosity  towards  those  who  had  once 
acted  in  the  most  bitter  spirit  of  opposition  towards 
him,  and  asserting  that  he  felt  no  compunction  in 
acting  upon   the  maxim,   that  enmities   should   be 
mortal    and  friendships  indissoluble,  is  much  more 
remarkable    for    point    and    speciousness   than   for 
sincerity*.  ^  . 

His  letters,  written  during  the  brief  opportunities 

•  Pro  Rabirio  Posthunio,  xii. 


/ 


272  THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 

which  presented  themselves  for  corresponding  with 
his  friends  amidst  the  labour  and  excitement  necessa- 
rily attendant  upon  the  management  of  so  many  im- 
portant causes,  contain  frequent  and  interesting  refer- 
ences to  Caesar's  second  invasion  of  Britain,  as  well  as 
to  his  present  relations  with  that  leader.     To  Caius 
Trebatius  he  writes  in  a  manner  which  shows,  that 
the  tempestuous  charge  of  the  British  warriors  and 
their  novel  method  of  fighting,  which  had  been  duly 
reported  at  Rome  since  the  termination  of  the  first 
campaign  in  the  island,  were  subjects  of  consider- 
able apprehension  to  those  who  had  friends  engaged 
in  the  expedition.     "  Take  care  *,"  he  suggests  half 
jocosely,    "  that,   with  those   habits  of  caution   of 
yours,  which   you  have  learned  to  exercise  in  other 
matters,  you  do  not  fall  into  an  ambush  of  the  ene- 
mies' charioteers ;   and  since  I   have  begun  to  quote 
from  the   Medea,   let  this    passage  be  constantly  in 
your  mind  : — That  he  possesses  wisdom  to  little  pur- 
pose, who  is  not  wise  for  himelf."      To  his  brother 
Quintus  he  writes  soon  afterwards t  : — "  How    de- 
lightful was  your  late  epistle  respecting  Britain  !    I 
feared  the  ocean,  I  feared  the  hostile  coast.     What 
yet  remains  before  you,  I    am  far  from   despising, 
although  it  appears  to  me  to  hold   out  a  prospect  of 
hope,    rather   than    apprehension."      To    Trebatius, 
who  had  been  left  behind  in  Gaul  on  the  sailing  of 
the  invading   armament,  he  addresses  himself  in  a 
style  of  polished  and  playful  satire  on  the  circum- 
stance X-     "I   have   perused  your  epistle,"    he  ob- 
serves, "from  which,   1    understand,  that  you   are 
considered  a  thorough  lawyer  by  our  friend  Caesar  §. 

*  Ad  Diversos,  vii.  7. 

■f"  Ad  Quint,  ii.  16.  It  will  be  seen,  tliat  the  chronology  of 
Schutz  has  been  followed  in  the  references  to  these  epistles. 

:J:  Ad  Diversos,  vii.  10. 

§  '*  Ergo,  no  soldier,  and  therefore  left  behind  ',"" — such,  at  least 
seenui  to  be  tlie  point  of  the  allusion. 


V 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


273 


You  have  reason  to  congratulate  yourself  on  being 
quartered  in  a  country  where  your  knowledge  ap- 
pears something  considerable.  But  had  you  passed 
over  into  Britain  ;  in  all  that  immense  island, 
you  would,  most  assuredly,  have  looked  in  vain  for 
one  more  learned  in  the  law  than  yourself.  To  con- 
tinue the  jesting  strain  in  which  I  have  begun  :  I 
must  confess  myself  rather  envious  of  your  being  vo- 
luntarily summoned  by  Caesar  to  an  audience,  while  no 
one  else  dares  to  hope  for  such  a  mark  of  favour ;  not 
from  any  pride  on  his  part,  but  from  the  multiplicity 
of  his  engagements.  Yet  in  the  whole  of  your  let- 
ter you  have  mentioned  nothing  of  your  private 
concerns,  which  are,  I  protest  to  you,  a  subject  of  no 
less  interest  to  me  than  my  own.  I  very  much  fear 
you  will  find  your  winter- quarters  sufficiently  chilly, 
and  therefore  advise  you,  in  common  with  your 
friends  Mucins  and  Manilius,  to  be  careful  in  main- 
taining a  blazing  hearth,  the  more  especially  as  you 
do  not  possess  a  very  extensive  military  wardrobe*, 
although  we  hear  that  you  have  at  present  work 
enouo^h  to  keep  you  warm  without  the  help  of  addi- 
tional clothing.  The  intelligence  would  have  greatly 
alarmed  me  for  your  safety,  did  I  not  know  that  you 
were  much  more  cautious  in  warfare,  than  in  your 
pleadings.  This  much,  at  least,  I  deduce  from  the 
fact,  that  fond  as  you  are  of  swimming,  you  have 
shown  no  inclination  to  peril  yourself  upon  the  ocean, 
and  as  little  to  witness  a  real  battle  of  charioteers, 
whereas,  at  Rome,  we  could  never  contrive  to  cheat 
you  of  a  single  exhibition  of  mounted  gladiators  f." 

*  Melmoth's  translation  is  somewhat  different.  Trebatius  was 
at  this  time  quartered  at  Samarobriva,  the  modem  Amiens. 

t  In  the  original  *'  andabatse."  By  way  of  exciting  the  brutal 
merriment  of  the  Roman  mobs,  the  gladiators  known  by  this  name 
are  said  to  have  engaged  in  mortal  combat  mounted  on  horseback, 
and  blindfold. 


274 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


In  a  following  letter  to  his  brother  Quintus*,  he 
states  : — "  I  now  come  to  the  subject  of  your  epistles, 
of  which  I  received  several  while  at  Arpinum,  since 
no  less  than  three  were  delivered  to  me  in  one  day, 
all  of  them,  as  it  seems,  despatched  by  you  at   the 
same  time.     You  mention  the  exceeding  attachment 
of  Ceesar  to  myself.     Continue  sedulously  to  culti- 
vate his  friendship.     I,  for  my  part,  shall  exercise 
myself  in  every  possible  way  to  advance  his  interests. 
As  to  your  assertion,  that  yoU  are  daily  rising  in  his 
favour,  I  receive  the  intelligence  with  a  joy  whicli 
will  be  equal  in  duration  to  my  own  existence.     Con- 
ceminf  the  operations  in  Britain,  I  am,  it  seems,  to 
understand  that  there  is  nothing  to  dread,  nor  any- 
thin  c^  to   afford  a  subject  of  congratulation.     Your 
fourth   letter,   dated  from  that   island,  the  ninth  of 
Au<nist,  was  delivered  to  me  on  the  thirteenth    of 
September.     There  was  little  of  novelty  in  it  besides 
the  mention  of  your  tragedy  of  Erigone,  upon  which, 
if  I  receive  it  from   Appius,  I  will  shortly  let   you 
know  my  opinion.     I  have  no  doubt  that  I  shall  be 
much  gratified  by  it.     While  folding  up  this  commu- 
nication, I  have  received  fresh  despatches  written  on 
the  twenty-second  of  August,  that  is,  within  twenty 
days  after  their  date.     Unhappy  subject  of  trouble 
that  I  am  !     What  grief  have  I  felt  from  the  endear- 
ing letter  of  Csesar !   But  precisely  in  proportion  to 
the  pleasure  which  I  received  from  the  delightful 
expressions  of  his  friendship,  was  my  sorrow  on  ac- 
count of  his  misfortune."  The  allusion  in  this  sentence 
was  probably  to  the  recent  death  of  Julia,  the  wife  of 
Pompey  and  daughter  of  Caesar,  in  child-bed  ;    an 
event  equally  calamitous   to   her  husband,    her   pa- 
rent,   and    her  country,  and  to  which  the  letter  in 
question  most  probably  referred. 

•  Ad  Quintum,  iii.  1. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


275 


The  departure  of  Caesar  from  the  island  in  which 
he  had  only  succeeded  in  establishing,  after  the 
expenditure  of  so  much  blood  and  treasure  upon  its 
reduction,  a  mere  nominal  and  momentary  submission 
to  his  arms,  is  also  not  without  a  place  in  the  same 
rich  and  varied  correspondence.  In  the  second  epistle 
of  the  third  book  of  his  letters  to  his  brother  Quintus, 
he  says  : — '*  Caesar  forwarded  a  despatch  to  me  from 
Britain,  on  the  first  of  September,  which  I  received 
on  the  twenty-eighth  of  the  same  month.  His 
intelligence  respecting  the  late  operations  in  the  island 
is  satisfactory  enough.  He  desires  meto  feel  no  surprise 
at  not  hearing  from  you,  since  you  were  not  with  him 
during  his  march  towards  the  coast.  To  this  letter  I 
have  made  no  reply,  not  even  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
gratulation, out  of  respect  to  his  late  affliction."  And 
afterwards,  in  a  letter  to  Atticus : — "  I  am  informed 
by  my  brother  Quintus  of  almost  incredible  instances  of 
Caesar's  affection  towards  me,  and  this  is  confirmed 
by  the  most  flattering  letters  from  Csesar  himself. 
The  end  of  the  expedition  to  Britain  is  confidently 
expected,  for  it  is  certain  that  our  footing  in  the 
country  is  now  secured  by  the  most  astonishing  for- 
tifications*.     This,  also,  is  certain,  that  there  is  not 

*  Melmoth  renders  the  passages  **  We  are  impatient  for  the 
event  of  the  Britannic  expedition.  All  we  know  for  certain  is, 
that  the  island  is  fortified  with  amazing  rocks."  Yet,  with  all  due 
respect  to  that  elegant  scholar,  it  may  be  observed,  that  his  transla- 
tion is  scarcely  warranted  by  the  connexion  of  the  sense  in  the  original. 
The  words  of  Cicero  are,  *'  Britannici  belli  eventus  expectatur.  Con- 
stat enim  aditus  insulae  esse  munitos  mirificis  molibus."  No  notice, 
therefore,  is  taken  of  an  important  particle.  There  can  he  little  doubt, 
that,  by  the  "  mirificse  moles"  are  to  be  understood  the  works  for  the 
protection  of  his  fleet  and  army  which  are  mentioned  by  Caesar  : — 
(De  Bello  Gall.  v.  1 1.)  "  Ipse  etsi  res  erat  multoB  operce  et  laboris, 
tamen  commodissimum  esse  statuit  omnes  naves  subduci  et  cum 
castris  una  munitione  conjungi.  In  his  rebus  circiter  dies  x.  con- 
sumit,  ne  nocturnis  quidem  temporibus  ad  laborem  militum  inter- 
^issis.     Subductis  navibus  castrisque  egregie  munitis,'^  &c.  Such 

T  2 


276  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

a  single  particle  of  silver  in  the  island*,  nor  any  hope 
of  booty,  unless  in  the  way  of  slaves,  and  of  these  you 
will  not  expect,  I  presume,  any  skilled  in  letters  or 
music."  He  subsequently  writes :— "  I  received  on  the 
twenty-fourth  of  Octoberf,  letters  from  Caesar, and  my 
brother  Quintus,  dated  the  twenty-sixth  of  Septem- 
ber. The  British  war  is  finished,  since  hostages 
have  been  given  by  the  natives,  and  the  payment  of 
a  sum  of  money  commanded ;  but  nothing  has  been 
acquired  in  the  shape  of  booty.  They  were  then  on 
the  point  of  embarking  their  men." 

This  is  the  last  mention  made  of  the  operations  of  the 
Romans  in  Britain  by  Cicero ;  and,  although  repeated- 
ly quoted,  and  very  generally  known,  the  remarks  of 
Dr.  Middleton  upon  the  contemptuous  character  of  his 
general  observations  upon  the  country,  are  so  elo- 
quent and  forcible,  as  to  leave  no  excuse  for  their 
omission.  "  From  the  railleries  of  this  kind  on  the 
barbarity  and  misery  of  our  island,  one  cannot  help 
reflecting  on  the  surprising  fate  and  revolutions  of 
kincrdoms.  How  Rome,  once  the  mistress  of  the 
world,  the  seat  of  arts,  empire,  and  glory,  now  lies 

words  would  not  Lave  been  applied  by  a  geneial  like  Caesar,  accustom- 
ed to  fortifications  upon  a  most  stupendous  scale,  to  any  light  under- 
taking, and  an  impregnable  post  having  been  thus  secured  for  the  recep- 
tion of  supplies,  as  well  as  a  strong  basis  for  operations,  the  subjugation 
of  the  island  would  be  considered  as  a  matter  of  course  in  the  eyes 
of  a  Roman.       Dr.  Middleton' s   translation    appears    nearer   the 

truth  : "  We  are  in  suspense  about  the  British  war  ;  it  is  certain 

that  the  access  to  the  island  is  strongly  fortified,"  &c.  As  to  the 
works  themselves,  they  have,  probably,  long  since  been  buried 
under  the  waves  of  the  British  Channel. 

*  Similar  information  is  conveyed  in  a  prior  letter  to  Trebatius. 
(Ad  Diversos,  vii.  7)  : — **  I  hear  that  there  is  neither  gold  nor  silver 
in  Britain  ;  if  this  is  the  case,  I  would  advise  you,  as  soon  as  possible, 
to  seize  one  of  their  chariots  and  hasten  back  to  us."  The  mineral 
productions  of  Britain  were  better  understood  in  the  time  of  Tacitus  : 

"  Pert  Britannia  anrum  et  argentum,  et  alia   metalla  pretium 

Victoria;.*! — Vita  Agric.  xii.  .^ 

t  Fasti  Hellenici,  iii.  190. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


277 


I 


il 


sunk  in  sloth,  ignorance,  and  poverty,  enslaved  by 
the   most  cruel,    as   well  as  most   contemptible   of 
tyrants, — superstition,  and  religious  imposture;  while 
this   remote   country,   anciently   the   jest  and  con- 
tempt of  the  polite  Romans,  is  become  the  happy 
seat  of  liberty,  plenty,  and  letters,  flourishing  in  all 
the  arts  and  refinements  of  civil  Hfe  :  yet  running 
perhaps  the  same  course  which  Rome  itself  had  run 
before  it,   from  virtuous  industry  to  wealth,  from 
wealth  to  luxury,  from  luxury  to  an  impatience  of 
discipline  and  corruption  of  morals ;  till,  by  a  total 
degeneracy  and  loss  of  virtue,  being  grown  ripe  for 
destruction,  it  falls  a  prey,  at  last,  to  some  hardy 
oppressor,  and,  with  the  loss  of  liberty,  losing  every 
thing  else  that  is  valuable,  sinks  gradually  again  into 
its  original  barbarism."    Yet,  there  seems  little  reason 
to  indulge  an  apprehension  of  the  occurrence  of  any 
such  contingency  as  the  writer  of  this  justly  admired 
passao-e  seems  to  have  contemplated.      The  peculiar 
reasons  for  the  past  decline  and  present  destitution  of 
Rome.,  are  sufliciently  numerous  to  be  obvious  to  the 
most   superficial   observer.       If   no   empire   can   a 
second  time  rise  to  the  same  lordly  height  of  domin- 
ion, none  is  assuredly  destined  again  to  sink  so  low  ; 
and  to  augur  a  similar  fate  to  nations  which  are  daily 
becoming  more  thoroughly  leavened  by  a  vitality, 
which  that  haughty  power,  even  when  called  to  act 
the   part  of  tutoress   of  the   world,  could  neither 
acknowledge  nor  appreciate  ;— while,  moreover,  that 
darkness  by  which  alone  despotism  can  be   estab- 
lished or  perpetuated  is  every  day  rolled  back  to  a 
greater  distance,  by  the  increase  of  intellectual  and  re- 
ligious light,  would  be  to  assign  to  negative  principles 
a  force  which  they  neither  claim  nor  possess.     It  is 
only  when  one  part  of  the  earth,  and  that  not  the 
most   powerful,  is  far  advanced   in  civilisation  and 
*  wealth  before  the   rest,    that  its  luxury  becomes 


278  THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 

dangerous  to  itself.  It  is  only  when  held  by  a  single 
hand  that  the  torch  of  refinement  is  liable  to  be 
struck  to  the  earth  and  extinguished.  The  tendency 
of  society  is  now  permanently  to  advance,  not  to 
retrograde ;  rather  to  raise  the  decayed  states  of 
antiquity  to  a  condition  far  preferable  to  that  of  their 
once  boasted  greatness,  than  to  add  others  to  the  list 
of  the  fallen  ;  and  if  the  existence  of  a  republic  of 
enlightened  nations,  considering  themselves  in  the 
light  of  pledges  for  each  other's  safety,  and  conscious 
that  an  injury  done  to  one  must  infallibly  induce  the 
detriment  of  all  the  rest,  was  a  phenomenon  unknown 
to  the  earlier  ages  of  the  world,  it  is  one  which  may 
certainly  be  expected  to  present  itself  before  the  his- 
tory of  many  more  generations  is  to  be  added  to  the 
records  of  the  past. 

A  poem  in  honour  of  Caesar  by  Cicero*,  and  a  de- 
scription in  verse,  by  hisbrother,  of  the  principal  events 
of  the  British  expeditiont,  both  of  which  are  men- 
tioned in  his  correspondence,  and  seem  to  have  been 
finished  at  about  the  same  period,  would  have  been 
invaluable  treasures  if  they  had  been  preserved  to 
modern  times.  The  latter,  amidst  the  dangers  and 
fatigues  of  the  service  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
seems  not  to  have  lost  a  moment  which  could  be 
devoted  to  his  favourite  studies ;  since  he  is  recorded 
as  having  completed  four  tragedies,  probably  transla- 
tions, in  "sixteen  daysj  ;  a  truly  marvellous  facility  of 
composition.  Cicero  seems,  on  his  part,  to  have 
been  led  to  similar  pursuits,  by  the  vain  hope  of 
dispelling  the  sense  of  lost  independence  and  present 
subjection,  by  ardently  devoting  himself  to  studies 
wholly  unconnected  with  public  affairs  ;  but  the  ob- 
trusive feeling  does  not  appear  to  have  been  banished 
by  the  charm  of  letters,  and  his  epistles  continue  to 
lament  the  subservience  to  his  powerful  friends  or 
•  Ad  Quint,  ii.  16.         f  ^^"^  Quint,  iii.  1.       t  ^^  Quint,  iii.  6. 


i, 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


279 


(^ 


masters,  by  which  his  self-esteem,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
was  at  least  as  much  wounded  as  his  patriotism. 
He  also  alludes  to  a  resolution  he  had  formed  of 
accepting  the  commission  of  legate  under  Pompey  in 
Spain,  lately  offered  to  him,  in  which  he  was  sufii- 
ciently  in  earnest  to  fix  the  day  of  his  departure 
from  Rome.  The  interference  of  Caesar,  however, 
who  was  endeavouring  to  detach  him  from  the  inter- 
ests of  his  rival  by  means  of  his  brother  Quintus, 
had  the  effect  of  inducing  him  to  decline  the 
appointment. 

In  the  exercise  of  that  easy  credulity  by  which 
he  was  made  a  dupe  by  the  artifices  of  powerful 
flatterers  almost  to  the  latest  hour  of  his  life,  he 
exclaims  on  this  occasion  to  Atticus  : — *'  Observe 
the  closeness  of  my  most  endearing  friendship  witk 
Csesar ;  for  I  am  delighted  to  boast  of  having  pre- 
served at  least  one  plank  amidst  the  general  wreck 
of  my  fortunes.  Ye  Gods  !  what  especial  marks  of 
honour  and  dignity,  what  favour  does  he  bestow 
upon  our  Quintus.  If  I  were  myself  commander-in- 
chief,  I  could  do  no  more.  Caesar,  as  I  am  informed 
by  his  letters,  allows  him  the  full  power  of  selecting 
his  own  winter-quarters  for  his  legion*.  Is  it  pos- 
sible that  you  can  refrain  from  loving  such  a  man  ? 
Whom,  let  me  ask,  of  the  opposite  faction  will  you 
find  like  himt  ?"  While  Cicero  was  thus  surrender- 
ing his  better  judgment  to  the  dictates  of  his  vanity, 
Rome  was  the  scene  of  occurrences  which  were  not 
without  their  influence  in  leading  the  minds  of 
men  to  the  contemplation  of  absolute  authority 
lodged  in  the  hands  of  a  single  individual,  as 
a  remedy  for  the  intestine  disorders  by  which  the 

•  Compare  Csesar  De  Bello  Gall.  v.  24, — unam  (legionem)  in 
Morinos  ducendam  C.  Fabio  legato  dedit ;  alteram  inNervios  Q. 
Ciceroni. 

t  Ad  Attic,  iv.  18. 


280 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


peace  of  the  city  had  been  for  years  interrupted,  and 
to  which  there  now  seemed  no  prospect  of  a  termina- 
tion.  Instances  of  the  most  flagitious  corruption  were 
daily  brought  to  light.     The  four  new  candidates 
for  the  consulship, — Memmius,  Domitius,  Scaurus, 
and  Messala,   vied  with  each  other  in  open  and  ex- 
travagant bribery.     The  spirit  of  party  rose  to    a 
furious  pitch ;  and  the  tribunes  of  the  people,  after 
hindering  the  comitia  from  taking   place  up  to  the 
time  of  reUnquishing  their  office,  left  it   with    the 
election  of  the  magistrates  yet  undecided.    During  the 
interregnum,  the  city  was  witness  to  a  novel  scene  of 
contention,  in  the  form  of  a  triumphal  entry  disputed 
at   the  sword's-point.       Caius   Pontinus,   who   had 
reduced    the    AUobroges    to    submission,    was  the 
officer  who,  for  the  first  time  since  the  foundation 
of  Rome,   had  to  fight  his  way  to  the  Capitol  on 
such  an  occasion,  and  to  mingle  the  horrors  of  actual 
warfare   with  the  pomp   of  its    mimic   pageantry. 
After  patiently  waiting  for  five  years  in  the  suburbs 
in  expectation  of  a  triumph,  which  was  refused  him 
by  the  senate,  he  was  enabled  at  length  to  establish 
a  title  to  the  honour,  by  virtue  of  a  law  from  the 
people.     The  result  was  an  attempt  on  the  part  of 
the  opposite  faction  to  impede  him  by  force  of  arms, 
and  its  repulse  by  the  resolution  of  the  armed  ad- 
herents by  whom  he  was  accompanied. 

Amidst  such  commotions,  a  dictatorship  was  fre- 
quently mentioned,  and  pronounced  to  be  the  only 
means  of  saving  the  state  from  destruction.  Pompey 
was  pointed  out  by  the  party  who  had  raised  the  cry 
as  the  fittest  person  to  be  elected  to  the  office,  and, 
according  to  Cicero,  expressed  no  unwillingness  to 
accept  it.  For  more  than  six  months  longer,  the 
return  of  the  chief  magistrates  continued  to  be 
postponed, — the  new  tribunes  acting  with  the  same 
firmness  or  obstinacy  as  their  predecessors ;  with  the 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


281 


design   of    ultimately    forcing  the    dictatorship   of 
Pompey  upon  the  people,    a  measure  which  they 
more   than  once   formally  proposed.      During   the 
whole  of  this  period  of  confusion,  the  usual  expedient 
was  adopted,   of  creating  from  the  patrician  body  a 
fresh  "  interrex  "  every  five  days,  that  there  might 
be  some  public  authority  under  whose  auspices  the 
comitia  might  be  held,  if  suffered  to  proceed.     By 
the  advice  of  the  late  tribune  Marcus  Cato,  it  was  at 
length  deemed  fitting  to  put  a  stop  to  the  existing 
disturbances;   and  Cneius  Domitius   Calvinus   and 
Marcus  Valerius  Messala,  after  being  elected  con- 
suls,  were  allowed  peaceably  to  enter  upon  their 
office.     Then-  magistracy  was  long  remembered  for 
the   intelligence   which  arrived,  not  long  after  its 
commencement,  of  the  terrible  blow  inflicted  upon  the 
power   and  reputation   of  Rome,  in  the  disastrous 
rout  of  Crassus  and  his  army  by  Surena,  the  lieu- 
tenant of  Orodes,  king  of  Parthia.      Besides  the 
loss  of  the  unfortunate  commander  in  this  ill-advised 
expedition,   and  his  son  Publius,  who  fell  by  the 
hand   of  his  armour-bearer,  to  avoid  the  captivity 
which  threatened  him,  the  commonwealth  had  to 
lament  that  oHhiriy  thousand  of  its  best  troops,  either 
killed  or  taken  prisoners*,  and  the  ignominious  flight 
of  as  many  more  who  were  driven  back  in  scattered 
bodies  upon  the  Euphrates,  with  a  horror  of  the  Par- 
thian arrows  which  long  continued  insurmountable +. 
No  such  disgrace  had  fallen  upon  the  Roman  legions 
since  the  days  of  Cannae  and  Thrasymene ;  but  the 
extent  of  the  calamity  was  not  to  be  measured  by  the 
number  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the  field,  or  the 

*  Plutarch,  in  Crass, 
t  Crassus  is  supposed  to  have  "been  defeated  some  time  in  the 
month  of  June,  in  the  year  a.  u.  c.  701,  b.c.  53,  on  the  fifth  of 
the   Ides   (the  9th)  ,  according   to  Ovid.     See  Fasti  Hellenici, 
iii.  192. 


282  THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

degree  to  which  the  prowess  of  the  conquered 
fell,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  in  the  estimation 
of  surrounding  nations.  By  the  death  of  Cras- 
sus  a  rupture  between  the  surviving  members  of 
the  triumvirate,  the  way  to  which  had  been  partly 
prepared  by  the  decease  of  Julia  the  wife  of  Pompey, 
was  rendered  certain.  Each  saw  from  henceforth  but 
a  single  rival  in  his  advance  to  absolute  power.  The 
policy  of  Crassus,  which  might  be  considered  as 
that  of  the  more  wealthy  and  pacific  members  of 
the  community,  had  no  longer  a  representative  or  an 
advocate  of  sufficient  weight  to  impose  a  check  upon 
the  fierce  spirits  who  severally  espoused  the  interests 
of  two  leaders,  nearly  equal  in  military  reputation  and 
actual  strength;  and  with  the  removal  of  the  last 
restraint  which  prevented  the  secret  jealousies  of  the 
opposite  parties  from  bursting  out  into  actual  hosti- 
lities, occasions  were  not  slow  in  occurring  to  tempt 
their  long  suppressed  violence  into  furious  and  unlimit- 
ed action.  One  of  the  less  important  consequences  of 
the  defeat  of  the  Romans  in  Parthia  was  the  admission 
of  Cicero  into  the  augural  priesthood,  in  which  a 
vacancy  had  occurred  by  the  fall  of  Publius  Crassus. 
He  was  opposed  in  his  canvass  by  the  tribune  Caius 
Hirrus,  but  the  eiForts  of  his  competitor  were  seen 
from  the  beginning  to  be  hopeless,  and  on  the  nomi- 
nation of  Pompey  and  Hortensius,  backed  by  the 
universal  approbation  of  the  whole  college*,  he  was 
elected  to  an  honour  reserved,  for  the  most  part,  for 
the  most  eminent  among  the  aristocracy  alone,  and 
considered  one  of  the  most  important  dignities  of 
the  state. 

If  the  consular  elections  which  ended  in  the  return 

•  The  College  of  Augurs  consisted  of  fifteen  members,  wbo  held 
the  dignity  of  n  priesthood  for  life,  unalienable  by  any  crime  or 
misconduct.  The  augurs  were  at  this  time  chosen  by  the  people. 
It  was,  however,  necessary  that  each  candidate  should  be  norni* 
nated  by  two  persons  already  belonging  to  the  body. 


\ 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  289 

of  Calvinus  and  Messala  had  been  scenes  of  pernicious 
excitement  from  the  prevalence  of  the  madness  of 
party,  the  attempts  which  were  made  under  their 
auspices  in  the  ensuing  autumn  to  return  magistrates 
for  the  following  year,  far  exceeded  them  in  the 
outrages  committed  by  the  rival  factions.  Three 
candidates,  Annius  Milo,  Metellus  Scipio,  and  Plau- 
tius  Hypsaeus,  presented  themselves  for  the  consul- 
ship, while  the  notorious  Clodius  avowed  his  intention 
of  standing  for  the  office  of  prsetor.  Clodius,  at 
the  same  time,  bent  all  his  effi)rts  to  frustrate  the 
canvass  of  Milo,  and  took  the  same  means  to  prevent 
his  election  to  which  he  had  so  often  had  recourse 
before.  The  comitia  were  interrupted  by  the  violence 
of  his  armed  partisans,  and  after  the  consuls  had  been 
seriously  injured  by  stones  hurled  at  them  in  the 
tumult*,  the  assembly  was  dissolved  in  confusion. 
Neither  the  bribery,  however,  which  was  carried 
forward  on  a  scale  of  insane  extravagance,  nor  the 
violence  by  which  it  was  accompanied  and  covered, 
was  confined  to  one  party.  Milo,  who  had  already 
wasted  three  estates  upon  the  exhibition  of  games 
and  gladiatorial  combats  to  the  people,  prepared, 
under  the  frenzy  naturally  engendered  to  a  greater  or 
less  degree  by  the  prospect  or  occurrence  of  a  con- 
tested election,  to  lavish  a  sum  equal  to  about  a 
quarter  of  a  million  of  pounds  sterling  t  on  an  enter- 

•  Cicero  de  JErc  alieno  Milonis. 

t  SSf  ficdverat  oitK  ir  av€KTois  qui  ludos  H.  S.  ccc.  comparet, 
(Ad  Quintum,  iii.  9.)  Mention  is  also  made  of  the  extensive  prepa- 
rations of  Milo  for  his  games  in  the  preceding  epistle,  (iii.  8.)  As 
this  was  written  not  long  after  the  eighth  of  the  calends  of 
December,  the  exhibition  probably  took  place  in  the  spring  of  the 
subsequent  year,  701,  before  the  election  of  the  consuls,  and  con- 
sequently before  Milo  vsas  professedly  a  candidate  for  the  consulate 
the  next  year.  The  intentions  of  those  who  were  determined  upon 
standing  for  that  honour  were  generally  known  long  prior  to  the 
commencement  of  their  canvass.     It  may  be  observed,  that  with 


284 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


tainment,  the  magni^cence  of  which  he  hoped  would 
place  hira  far  above  all  his  rivals  in  the  favour  of  his 
fellow-citizens.  He  had,  however,  a  formidable  com- 
petitor in  Hypsaeus,  wlio  having  once  served  Pompey 
in  the  capacity  of  qusestor,  and  at  all  times  devoted 
himself  to  his  interests,  was  backed  by  the  full 
influence  of  that  popular  leader.  The  year  having 
terminated  without  the  possibility  of  holding  the 
comitia  without  interruption,  the  expedient  of  cre- 
ating interreges  was  again  proposed,  but  was  unable 
to  be  effected,  in  consequence  of  the  furious  dis- 
putes which  took  place  upon  the  subject.  Cicero, 
on  whom  Milo  had  conferred  so  many  obligations, 
although  he  appears  to  have  been  absent  from  Rome 
during  some  part  of  the  year,  devoting  himself  to 
literature,  and  deriving  his  principal  enjoyments  from 
the  retirement  of  his  villas  and  the  society  of  his 
youthful  son  and  nephew,  was  by  no  means  an  uncon- 
cerned spectator  of  the  contests  carried  on  at  Rome. 
Independently  of  his  gratitude,  his  own  fears  prompted 
him  to  take  a  deep  interest  in  the  success  of  his  friend, 
since  the  rival  candidates,  Hypsaeus  and  Scipio,  were 
wholly  under  the  influence  of  Clodius.  His  epistle 
to  his  friend  Curio,  on  the  return  of  the  latter  from 
Asia,  shows  with  what  spirit  he  was  mingling,  at 
the  time  of  its  date,  in  the  disputes  which  were  agi- 

the  letter  in  which  mention  is  made  of  the  extravagant  entertain- 
ments of  Milo  closes,  to  the  regret  of  all  interested  in  this  period 
of  history,  the  correspondence  of  Cicero  with  Quintus.  Whatever 
his  occasional  disingennousness  to  others  might  be,  to  his  brother 
be  always  seems  to  express  the  genuine  convictions  of  his  judgment, 
and  the  undisguised  feelings  of  his  heart.  Yet  even  this  means  of 
communicating  his  real  thoughts  seems,  in  his  last  letter,  about  to 
be  circumscribed  by  his  timid  subjection  to  the  existing  authorities. 
"  How  cautious,"  be  writes  in  the  epistle  referred  to,  "  I  wish  you 
to  be  in  writing,  conjecture  from  this,  that  I  do  not  even  com- 
municate to  you  ray  sentiments  respecting  the  existing  disturbances, 
lest  this  letter,  if  intercepted,  should  give  offence  to  the  mind  of 
some  one." — Ad  Quintum,  ili.  9. 


I 


i!^ 


)■ 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO.  285 

tating  the  capital.     "  I  have  centred,**  he  asserts, 
"  all  my  energies,  labours,  anxieties,  every  effort  of 
my  industry,  and  every  device  of  my  mind,  my  whole 
soul,  in  a  word,  upon  the  return  of  Milo  to  the  con- 
sulship, and  have  come  to  the  conviction  that  I  ought 
to  exert  myself  in  such  a  manner  as  to  obtain  not 
only  the  satisfaction  of  having  performed  my  duty, 
but  the  praise  of  piety.     Nor  do  I  think  that  his 
own  safety  and  fortunes  ever  appeared  of  greater  con- 
sequence in  the   eyes   of  any  individual,  than  the 
honour  of  that  man  in  mine,  with  whose  efforts  my 
interests  are  wholly  embarked.  We  have  in  our  favour 
the  best  wishes  of  the  good,  secured  by  his  conduct 
in  his  tribunate,  (that  is,  as  I  hope  you  will  readily 
understand,  by  his  exertions  in  my  behalf) — those  of 
the  common  people,  gained  by  the  magnificence  of 
his  public  shows  and  the  liberality  of  his  disposition — 
those  of  the  youth  and  the  more  active  and  influential 
in  our  elections,  by  the  expectation  of  their  benefiting 
in  turn  from  his  well-known  influence  and  activity 
on  such  occasions — lastly,  my  own  suflrage  and  inte- 
rest, which,  if  no  very  powerful  assistance,  is  at  least 
deserved,    and  justly   conferred ;    I  may   also   add, 
on  that  account,  perhaps  likely  to  be  not  without  its 
weight  with  the  public.     All  we  require  is  a  leader 
and  adviser,  who,  like  a  skilful  pilot,  may  show  us 
how  to  avail  ourselves  of  these  favourable  blasts;  and 
were  we  to  have  the  power  of  selecting  one  from  all 
mankind,  I  know  not  whom  we  could  compare  in 
aptitude  for  this  ofiice  with  yourself*."    But   his 
exertions  in  favour  of  his  friend  were  not  limited  to 
requesting  the  assistance  of  others  in  his  behalf.     In 
the   beginning  of  the  year  ensuing,  a.u.c.  702t,  he 

*  Ad  Di versos,  ii.  6. 
■f"  Patet  autem  ex  ipso  argumento  quo  anno  dicta  sit  hsec  causa, 
nempe  anno  U.C.  dccii.,  quo  item  annoet  Clodius  deinceps  occisus 
est. — Angel.  Maius  in  Oral,  de  Mr.  al.  Mil. 


286 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


delivered  in  the  senate-house  his  oration  respecting 
the  debts  of  Milo;  a  speech,  of  which  a  few  sentences, 
with  an  ancient  commentary  upon  them,  have  been 
latterly  discovered,  but  which,  until  brought  to  light 
by  the  researches  of  the  able  and  industrious  scholar 
by  whom  so  considerable  a  portion  of  the  philo- 
sophic works  of  Cicero  has  been  rescued  from 
oblivion,  was  not  even  suspected  to  have  had 
an  existence.  By  the  mutilated  argument  to  this 
oration  it  appears  that  Milo,  in  an  assembly  of- 
the  senate  convened  for  the  purpose  of  inter- 
fering to  prevent  the  scandalous  violence  of  Clo- 
dius  and  his  faction,  was  assailed  by  his  adversary 
in  a  bitter  speech,  accusing  him  of  having  made  a 
false  return  of  his  debts*,  and  glancing  at  Cicero,  in 
terms  far  from  unintelligible,  as  his  grand  aider  and 
abetter  in  this  fraud,  as  well  as  in  the  course  of 
bribery  which  he  was  charged  with  pursuing.  What 
eflPect  the  reply  of  the  orator,  who  instantly  rose  to 
repel  the  accusation,  produced,  it  is  impossible  to 
conjecture,  since  no  notice  is  taken  of  this  circum- 
stance by  ancient  historians ;  but  judging  from  the 
scattered  phrases  of  the  invective  which  yet  remain, 
it  was  behind  none  of  the  former  speeches  against  the 
same  pertinacious  opponent,  in  descriptions  of  his 
well-known  profligacy,  for  the  purpose  of  holding  up 
the  errors  of  his  former  life  to  abhorrence. 

The  contest  upon  which  so  much  time,  expense, 
talent,  and  perseverance  had  been  employed,  was  des- 

*  Milo,  it  appears,  gave  ia  the  whole  amount  of  his  liabilities  at 
**8e8tertium  sexagics/'or  six  millions  of  sestertii,  nearly  50,000/. — 
Argument.  adOrat.  de  JEr.  alien.  Mil.  Pliny,  however,  (Nat. 
Hist,  xxxvi.24,)  states  that  he  owed  no  less  than  "  sesteitium  sep- 
tingenties,"  or  seventy  millions  of  sestertii,  about  560,000/.,  which  ho 
considers)  as  he  well  might,  '*  inter  prodigia  humani  animi."  From 
the  same  author  we  find  that  his  antagonist,  Clodius,  was  not  much 
behind  him  in  extravagance,  since  he  inhabited  a  house  purchased 
ftt  ''  sestertium  centies  et  quadragies  octies,"  nearly  fifteen  millions 
of  sestertii,  or  120,000/. 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO.  287 

tined  to  terminate  in  a  manner  very  little  expected  by 
any  of  the  parties  engaged  in  it.     While  the  disturbance, 
excited  by  the  factions  of  the  rival  candidates,  was 
yet  at  its  height,  and  while  the  whole  city  resounded 
with  the  noisy  enthusiasm  of  their  respective  follow- 
ers,  or  with  the  more  serious  uproar  of  their  by  no 
means    bloodless    skirmishes,    Milo  departed    from 
Rome,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  20th  of  January,  in- 
tending to  pay  a   short  visit  to  Lanuvium,  a  small 
town  in  Latium,  about  sixteen  miles  from  Rome,  of 
which  he  was  the  dictator,  or  chief  magistrate.     His 
wife  Fausta  and  his  friend  Marcus  Fusius  were  seated 
beside   him    in   his  chariot,    while  a  long  train  of 
mounted  attendants  followed,  together  with  a  few 
gladiators,  among  whom  were  Birria  and  Eudamus, 
two  champions  w^ell  known  in  the  arena.     As  this 
imposing  band  was  slowly  defiling  along  the  Appian 
way,  it  was  met  at  a  short  distance  from  the  village 
of  Bovillae,  and  near  a  small  shrine  dedicated  to  the 
Bona  Dca,  by  Clodius,  who  was  returning  on  horse- 
back   from    Aricia,    accompanied   by    C.    Cassinius 
Schola,    a    Roman    knight,    two    of  the   plebeian 
order,  P.  Pomponius   and  Caius  Clodius,  and  about 
thirty  servants,  mounted  like  himself  and  armed  with 
swords.     As  the  tw^o  companies  endeavoured  to  pass 
each  other,  some  confusion  was  naturally  occasioned, 
which   ended  in  a  quarrel  between  the  rearmost  of 
both  sides,  in  which  the  gladiators  of  Milo  took  a 
conspicuous  part.     Clodius,  obeying  the  impulse  of 
his  captious  and  haughty  disposition,   immediately 
turned  at  the  sounds  of  dispute,  and  riding  towards 
Milo's  party,  began  to  make  use  of  threatening  lan- 
guage towards  Birria,  to  which  the  exasperated  gla- 
diator replied  in  the  manner  of  his  savage  profession,  by 
a  thrust  of  his  weapon,  which  took  effect  in  the  shoul- 
der of  his  reviler.     Clodius  was  immediately  carried 
into  a  tavern  by  the  road  side,  and  his  followers,  un- 


288  THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 

sheathing  their  swords,  commeTiced  a  desperate  attack 
upon  the  retainers  of  Milo,  which  soon  increased  to  a 
general  combat.    Fiercely  as  this  was  maintained  for  a 
short  time,  the   Clodians  were   soon  borne  down  by 
the  superiority  of  numbers,   and    either  slain    out- 
right, or  forced,  after  receiving  severe  wounds,  to  fly 
into  the  nearest  places  of  concealment.     Milo,  then, 
under  the  equal  excitement  of  passion  and  apprehen- 
sion, being  well  aware  that  the  escape  of  Clodius, 
under  existing  circumstances,  was  infinitely  more  to 
be   dreaded   than   his    death,    commanded  him    to 
be  "^torn   from    the  house  which   had  aflforded  him 
a  temporary  refuge,  and  despatched  without  mercy. 
His  orders   were  executed  almost  as    soon    as  pro- 
nounced,  and  the  wretched  exciter  of  so  many  civil 
broils,   now  fated  to  perish   by  the  same  means  of 
destruction  which  he  had  often  used  against  others, 
was  dragged  forth   into  the  road  and  pierced  with 
repeated'' wounds*.     The   body  was  suffered  tore- 
main  for  some  time  unremoved,  and  exposed  to  the 
wonder  and  curiosity  of  passing  travellers,  until  it 
was  recognised  by  Sextus  Taedius,  a  Roman  knight, 
on  his  return  from  the  country  to  the  city,  who,  after 
causing  his  attendants  to  raise  it  from  the  ground 
and  place  it  in  his  own  chariot,  sent  it  forward  under 

•"Eleven  servants  of  Clodius  are  said  to  have  fallen  in  the 
affray,  as  well  as  the  landlord  of  the  tavern,  who  was  murdered 
either  in  attempting  his  rescue,  or  by  the  ferocity  of  Milo's  gladia- 
tors, who,  in  the  excilement  of  their  fury,  were  little  likely  to  dis- 
criminate  between  an  adversary  and  an  inoffensive  spectator.  Mr. 
Eustace,  speaking  of  the  scene  of  this  memorable  encounter,  says, 
**  On  the  side  of  the  hill,  on  or  near  the  site  of  the  ancient  Bovillae, 
stands  a  tavern,  the  very  same,  if  we  may  credit  tradition,  into 
which  Clodius  retired  when  wounded,  and  from  which  he  was  drag- 
ged  by  Milo's  attendants.  Near  the  gate  of  Albano,  on  the  side  of 
the  road,  rises  an  ancient  tomb,  the  Sepulchre,  as  it  is  called  by 
the  people,  of  Ascanius,  but  in  the  opinion  of  antiquaries,  that  of 
Clodius  himself.  It  is  entirely  stripped  of  its  ornaments  and  exter- 
nal coating,  and  has  no  other  claim  to  the  traveller's  attention  than 
its  antiquity." — Classical  Tour,  vol.  i.  p.  436. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


289 


their  care  to  Rome.     About   nightfall,  the  news  of 
what  had  happened  pervaded  the  capital,  and  was 
corroborated  by  the  arrival  of  the  corpse  of  Clodius, 
which  was  immediately  exposed,  naked  and  bleeding, 
in  the  atrium  of  his  house  to  the  public  view,  and  at- 
tended by  Fulvia  his  widow ;  who,  like  one  of  the 
tragic  Furies,  with  dishevelled  hair  and  maniac  ges- 
tures, mingled  the  wild  lamentations  which  she  ut- 
tered over  the  body  with  imprecations  against  the 
murderers  of  her  husband,  and  appeals  for  vengeance 
directed   to  the  surrounding  crowd.      From   every 
quarter   of    Rome  immense    multitudes    continiied, 
throughout  the  ensuing  night,  to  flock  to  the  spot, 
and  by  day-break,  the  dense  assemblage  of  human 
beings  had  increased  to  a  frightful   extent ;  several 
persons,   and  among  them   one  of  senatorial  rank, 
being  crushed  to  death  amidst  the  fluctuations  of  the 
densely  compacted  mass.     Amidst  the  general  com- 
motion, the  tribunes   Munatius  Plancus  and  Pom- 
peius    Rufus  made   their  appearance,   and  advised 
that  the  body  of  Clodius  should  be  borne,  exposed 
as  it  was,  from  the  Palatine  hill,  on  which  his  house 
was  situated,  into  the  forum ;   where,  as  soon  as  it 
was  deposited  on  the  rostra,  the  angry  passions  of  the 
multitude  were  raised  to  uncontrollable  fury  by  in- 
flammatory harangues  delivered  by  both  magistrates 
in  succession.     At  the  instigation  of  Sextus  Clodius, 
the   brother  of  the    deceased,    a    funeral  pile    was 
constructed  beneath  the  porch  of  the  neighbouring 
curia,  or  senate-house,  of  seats,  tables,  and  public  re- 
cords brought  hastily  together.     This,  when  kindled, 
necessarily  involved  the  conflagration  of  the  whole 
building  ;    and  the  adjoining  basilica  of  Porcius,  an 
erection  of  great  beauty,  catching  fire  from  the  burn- 
ing edifice  close  beside  it,  was  soon  afterwards  enve- 
loped in  flames,  the  heat  of  which  was  so  intense  as 
finally  to  drive  the  tribunes  from  the  rostra.     After 


290 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


1 


this  opening  act  of  the  insurrection,  the  multitude 
poured  in  different  directions  to  storm  the  houses  of 
Milo  and  of  Marcus  Lepidus,  the  latter  of  whom 
had  just  been  created  interrex ;  but  they  were  sa- 
luted at  the  instant  of  their  first  desperate  Onset  by 
the  inmates  of  both,  who  had  received  sufficient 
warning  of  their  approach,  with  a  flight  of  arrows  from 
the  roofs,  delivered  so  rapidly,  and  with  such  certain 
aim,  as  to  compel  them  first  to  slacken,  and  soon  after 
to  abandon  their  assault  altogether.  Having  been 
repulsed  at  these  separate  points  of  attack,  they  again 
united,  and  with  the  fasces,  snatched  from  the  tem- 
ple of  Libitina,  borne  before  them,  proceeded  first  to 
the  houses  of  Scipio  and  Hypsaeus,  and  afterwards  to 
the  gardens  of  Pompey,  with  loud  clamours  for  the 
immediate  creation  of  a  consul  or  a  dictator.  From 
this  moment,  however,  the  popular  excitement,  having 
exhausted  itself  in  violent  efforts,  without  a  fixed  ob- 
ject or  a  sustaining  cause,  began  to  abate  almost  as 
rapidly  as  it  had  risen.  A  reaction  even  showed 
itself,  caused  by  the  indignation  of  an  immense  num- 
ber of  the  citizens  at  the  late  destruction  of  the  public 
buildings,  and  by  the  close  of  the  same  day  appear- 
ances were  so  much  more  in  his  favour,  that  Milo,  who 
had  at  first  meditated  withdrawing  into  voluntary 
exile,  had  sufficient  courage  to  re-enter  the  city,  where, 
on  the  following  morning,  he  was  again  seen  in  the 
white  robe  of  the  candidate,  distributing  his  largesses 
among  the  citizens.  He  was  even  produced  shortly 
afterwards,  by  the  tribunes  Ccelius  and  Canianus  at  a 
public  assembly,  and  vindicated  by  them  in  set 
speeches,  which  were  received  without  any  marks  of 
disapprobation.  The  excesses  of  the  different  factions 
of  the  aspirants  for  the  consulate  continued,  in  the 
mean  time,  unabated;  until  it  was  at  length  de^er^ 
mined  by  the  senate  to  issue  the  final  decree,  that 
the  interrex,  in  conjunction  with  Cneius  Pompey  and 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


291 


the  tribunes  of  the  people,  should  take  care  that  the 
commonwealth  received  no  detriment.  A  momentary 
calm  was  produced  by  this  decisive  step,  and  by  the 
terror  of  the  levies  which  instantly  took  place  through- 
out Italy  to  enforce  it ;  and  at  the  first  moment  at 
which  there  was  a  prospect  of  justice  being  adminis- 
tered as  before,  two  Clodii,  both  bearing  the  pras- 
nomen  of  Appius,  the  nephews  of  the  late  Publius 
Clodius,  demanded  that  the  slaves  of  Milo  should  be 
given  up  to  torture,  according  to  the  detestable  regu- 
lations of  Roman  jurisprudence,  that  information 
might  be  gained  from  them  for  the  foundation  of  a 
criminal  information  against  their  master.  Milo, 
however,  in  apprehension  of  such  a  movement, 
had  taken  the  customary  method  of  eluding  it,  by 
previously  manumitting  all  the  attendants  in  his 
train  on  the  day  of  the  death  of  Clodius,  avowedly 
under  an  impulse  of  gratitude  for  the  preservation  of 
his  life  by  their  means.  The  friends  of  Milo,  Ccelius 
and  Canianus,  at  the  same  time  retorted,  by  demand- 
ing, in  their  turn,  that  the  households  of  Hypsaeus 
and  Quintus  Metellus,  together  with  all  the  slaves 
of  Clodius  who  had  survived  their  encounter  with 
those  of  Milo,  should  be  put  to  the  question ;  to 
ascertain  whether  the  deceased  had  not  met  his  end 
in  pursuance  of  a  design  against  the  life  of  his  rival, 
deliberately  planned  and  attempted  to  be  carried  into 
effect. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  Pompey,  by 
the  general  resolution  of  the  senate,  was  elected  on 
the  7th  of  February  sole  consul  by  the  interrex  Ser- 
gius  Sulpicius,  and  entered  with  promptitude  on  the 
duties  of  his  office.  His  first  step  was  to  produce 
two  laws  to  the  people,  the  one  bearing  especial 
reference  to  the  acts  of  violence  which  had  lately 
])een  witnessed  in  Rome  and  its  vicinity;  and 
the  other  to  the  open  bribery  which  had  disgraced 

u2 


292 


THE   LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


the  existing  contest  for  the  consulate.  By  both,  the 
judicial  proceedings  in  the  case  of  any  one  accused  of 
either  of  the  offences  against  which  they  were  di- 
rected, were  rendered  much  more  summary  than  was 
usual,  since  but  three  days  were  allowed  for  the  pro- 
duction of  witnesses,  and  five  hours  for  the  speeches  of 
the  advocates  engaged  in  the  prosecution  or  the  defence. 
These  new  acts,  which  were  violently  opposed  by 
the  tribune  Marcus  Coelius,  were  no  sooner  passed, 
than  the  accusation  of  Milo  was  confidently  expected 
as  a  consequence.  Pompey,  indeed,  was  believed  to 
have  projected  them  for  the  sole  purpose  of  effecting 
his  ruin,  by  which  the  consulate  would  necessarily 
be  left  open  to  Hypsaeus ;  and  his  whole  conduct  was 
such,  as  greatly  to  strengthen  the  suspicion.  Under 
pretence  of  dreading  the  open  violence  of  Milo,  he 
retired  to  his  gardens,  which  were  surrounded  by  a 
strong  body  of  military  kept  constantly  under  arms, 
and,  on  one  occasion,  held  a  meeting  of  the  senate  in 
the  portico  of  his  private  residence,  as  if  he  had  been 
apprehensive  of  a  design  of  forcibly  interrupting  its 
deliberations.  Fresh  charges,  wholly  unfounded, 
were  constantly  brought  forward  in  the  senate  and  in 
the  assemblies  of  the  people  by  the  partisans  of  Scipio 
and  Hypsaeus  against  the  rival  faction ;  and  after  the 
public  mind  had  by  every  art  been  inflamed  against 
them,  a  qusesitor  or  instigator  of  consular  rank  was 
proposed,  by  another  law  of  Pompey,  to  be  appointed 
for  the  purpose  of  taking  cognisance  of  the  offences 
mentioned  in  his  recent  statutes.  Lucius  Domitius 
Ahenobarbus  was  selected  to  fill  this  office  by  the 
general  voice  expressed  at  the  comitia,  and,  imme- 
ately  after  his  return,  was  met  by  an  application  to 
fix  a  day  for  the  trial  of  Milo ;  who  was  impeached 
by  the  two  Clodii  for  illegal  violence,  by  Quintus 
Petulcius  and  Lucius  Comiticius  for  bribery,  and  by 
Publius  Fulvius  Neratus  for  aiding,  contrary  to  the 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


293 


law  upon  the  subject,  in  the  formation  of  combina- 
tions, or  committees,  for  the  support  of  his  interests 
at  the  consular  elections.     With  some  difficulty  the 
accused  obtained  the  postponement  of  the  two  latter 
charges  until  the  more  serious  indictment  should  be 
disposed  of,  and  with  cool  intrepidity  began  to  make 
preparations  for  his  defence;  using  none  of  the  means 
generally   adopted   by  persons   in   similar   circum- 
stances, to  move  the  compassion  of  the  multitude,  by 
wearing  his  hair  long  and  in  disorder,  or  assuming  a 
sordid  vest.     His  principal  difficulty  was  to  find  an 
advocate  of  sufficient  courage  to  encounter  the  rising 
storm   of  obloquy  which  threatened  any  one  who 
should  profess  the  intention  of  undertaking  his  cause. 
On  this  point,  however,  his  perplexity  was  speedily 
removed,  by  the  offer  of  the  most  able  assistance 
which  the  whole  Roman  bar  of  that  or  any  age  could 
have  afforded  him.     Notwithstanding  the  frowns  of 
Pompey,  and  the  clamorous  threats  of  the  Clodian 
faction— notwithstanding   the  open    display  of  the 
weapons  of  the  adherents  of  the  opposite  candidates 
for  the  consulate,  and  the  prospect  of  future  as  well  as 
present  peril — (since  the  tribune  Plancus  threatened 
to  impeach  him,  if  he  did  not  desist  from  his  under- 
taking, as  the  accomplice  and  confederate  of  Milo) 
Cicero,   nobly  forgetful  of  his  immediate  interests, 
and  equally  disregarding  the  displeasure  of  his  pa- 
trons, the  advice  of  his  party,  and  even  the  sugges- 
tions of  his  natural  timidity,  pressed  forward  to  the 
side  of  the  friend  who,  on  former  occasions,  had  done 
him  such  effectual  service,  and  proffered  his  aid  in 
taking  the  principal  management  of  the  proceedings 
for  his  defence. 

Since  the  commonwealth  of  Rome  had  possessed  a 
name  and  an  existence,  no  trial  had  ever  excited  such 
intense  interest  as  that  now  at  hand.  The  whole  of 
Italy  had  been  agitated  by  the  spirit  of  party,  for 


294 


THE    LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


which  the  capital  had  afforded  the  great  focus  of 
action,  and  so  extensive  was  the  participation  in  the 
feeling  which  had  prompted  the  late  disturbances,  so 
general  the  apprehension  that  they  were  only  pre- 
paratory to  much  more  serious  results,  that  even 
C»sar  paused  in  the  midst  of  the  levies  he  was 
making  for  the  further  prosecution  of  his  victorious 
career  in  Gaul ;  doubtful  whether  the  disturbances  at 
Rome  would  not  call  for  the  advance  of  his  legions 
in  that  direction,  to  ensure  the  public  tranquillity  *. 
On  the  very  first  day  of  the  proceedings,  the  fury  of 
the  Clodian  party  broke  out  in  a  manner  in  the  highest 
degree  alarming.  *  The  leading  witness  examined  for 
the  prosecution  was  Cassinius  Schola,  who  had  in  his 
evidence  endeavoured,  as  much  as  possible,  to  exag- 
gerate the  violence  of  the  adherents  of  Milo,  and 
added  numerous  circumstances  of  gratuitous  atrocity 
to  the  death  of  tlieir  victim.  Marcus  Marcellus 
then  rose  to  cross-examine  him  in  behalf  of  the  defen- 
dant, but  was  received  with  such  a  tempest  of  yells, 
execrations,  and  threats,  that,  in  the  immediate  ap- 
prehension of  being  torn  to  pieces  by  the  multitude, 
he  hastened  to  take  refuge  upon  the  very  tribunal  of 
Domitius.  These  disorderly  proceedings  were,  how- 
ever, promptly  remedied  by  Pompey,  who,  on  the  next 
day,  presented  himself  in  the  forum  with  a  sufficient 
guard  to  impose  some  degree  of  restraint  upon  the 
conduct  of  the  surrounding  crowd.  The  trial  was 
now  suffered  to  proceed  without  interruption.     Se- 

•  Caesar,  ut  constituerat,  in  Italian!  ad  conventus  agendos  pro- 
fisciscitur :  ubi  cognoscit  de  P.  Clodii  caede  ;  — de  senatusquo 
consulto  certior  factus,  ut  omnes  Italiae  juniores  conjurarent,  debc- 
turn  totfi  provinci^  habere  instituit. 

His  rebus  in  Italiam  Ciesari  nuntiatis,  quum  jam  ille  virtuto 
Cn.  Pompeii  urbanas  res  in  commodiorem  statum  pervenisse  intel- 
ligeret,  in  Galliam  Transalpinara  profectus  est. — This  was  pre- 
paratory to  the  famous  campaigTi  ogainst  Vercingetorex. — De  Bello 
Gall.  vii.  1 — 7  ;  Fasti  Hcllenici,  iii.  192, 


\1 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.  295 

veral  witnesses  from  BovillaB  were  produced,  M^ho 
testified  to  the  main  circumstances  in  the  murder  of 
Clodius.  The  vestal  virgins  were  brought  forward 
to  give  evidence  that  an  unknown  female  had  pre- 
sented herself  before  them  with  a  votive  offering  on 
the  part  of  Milo  for  the  death  of  his  adversary,  and 
the  case  for  the  prosecution  was  closed  by  the  testi- 
mony of  Fulvia,  whose  tears  and  lamentations  made  a 
deep  impression  upon  the  sympathies  of  the  assembly. 
As  in  the  course  of  the  ensuing  day  it  was  im- 
perative upon  the  advocates  on  both  sides  to  finish 
their  pleadings,  and  upon  the  judges  to  give  their 
decision,  the  tribune  Munatius,  before  the  populace 
began  to  disperse,  addressed  tliem  in  a  set  speech, 
desiring  them  to  be  punctual  in  their  attendance  on 
the  following  morning,  and  not  to  suffer  the  accused 
to  escape  by  any  repugnance  in  expressing  their  feel- 
ings of  just  grief  and  resentment.  In  consequence 
of  this  harangue,  which  was  followed  by  other 
indications  of  an  approaching  tumult,  Pompey,  in 
the  course  of  the  night,  took  possession  with  his 
soldiers  of  all  the  approaches  to  the  forum,  and 
planted  strong  guards  in  every  temple  and  public 
building  from  which  a  view  of  it  might  be  obtained. 
His  own  tribunal  he  caused  to  be  erected  in  a  con- 
spicuous place  in  front  of  .the  aerarium,  or  treasury, 
and  ordered  a  chosen  detachment  to  be  drawn  up 
around  it.  With  the  dawn  of  day  the  whole  of 
Rome  was  in  motion,  and  hastening  towards  the 
place  of  trial.  Every  shop  was  closed, — every  kind 
of  business  suspended, — and  but  one  feeling  of  intense 
anxiety  and  eager  expectation  pervaded  the  immense 
population  poured  forth  to  witness  the  decision  of 
the  famous  cause  which  had  so  long  occupied  their 
attention.  As  the  selection  of  fresh  judges,  in  the 
place  of  those  who  had  presided  during  the  produc- 
tion of  the  evidence,  went  forward  by  the  ordinary 


296  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

method  of  drawing  lots,  a  dead  silence  sank  upon 
the    forum  and    its    countless     occupants,    amidst 
which  the  elder  Appius  Clodius,  Marcus  Antonius, 
and  Valerius  Nepos*,   spoke  in  succession,  for  the 
space  of  two  hours,  on  the  side  of  the  prosecution. 
Cicero  then  rose  to  reply.     From  the  importance  of 
the  question, — the   magnitude    of  the    interests    at 
stake, — the  dignity  and  number  of  his  auditors, — and 
his  own  well-known  sentiments  of  deep  hatred  towards 
Clodius,  and  friendship  for  the  individual  accused  of 
his  assassination, — it  was  anticipated  that  his  genius 
was  now  about  to  shine  forth  in  a  manner  which  would 
surpass,  in  brilliancy  and  effect,  every  previous  ex- 
hibition of  its  resources.     The  public  expectation, 
however,    experienced    a    singular   disappointment. 
Cicero  had  been  conveyed  by  his  attendants  to  the 
forum  in  a  close  litter,   with  a  design  to  avoid  the 
sight  of  any  object  which  could  tend  to  discompose 
his  mind  on  an   occasion  when  his   highest   efforts 
would  be  requisite.     But  when,  on  descending  from 
this  conveyance,  he  was  saluted    with    the    hoarse 
murmurs  and  uproar  of   the  Clodian  party, — when 
he  beheld  the  dense  multitude  before  him  waving 
Kke  an  agitated  sea  with  the  violence  of  its  emo- 
tions,— every  eminence  around  him  glittering   with 
the  arms  of  Pompey's  troops,  and,  high  above  all,  the 
presiding  general,  seated  on  his  tribunal  amidst  the 
imposing  insignia  of  Roman  dignity,  and  surrounded 
by  the  full  pomp  of  banners  and  military  ensigns, — 
the  heart  of  the  orator  is  said  to  have  utterly  sunk  within 
him,  beneath  the  influence   of  that  baneful  timidity 
which  had  darkened  the  genius  of  his  great  Athenian 
prototype  on  an  occasion  of  equal  moment ;  and  than 
which   the  prompt  imagination  and  ready  voice  of 

*  Asconii  ArguTnentiim  orationis  pro  Annio  Milone  : — from 
which  mo3t  of  the  preceding  particulars,  relative  to  the  death  of 
Clodius  and  impeachment  of  Milo,  are  taken. 


■^ 


i  I 


( 


1 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  297 

eloquence  have  not  a  more  subtle  or  a  more  powerful 
foe  to  encounter.  In  the  commencement  of  his 
pleadings  he  is  described,  by  his  own  testimony  as 
well  as  that  of  others,  as  having  always  exhibited 
a  considerable  degree  of  nervous  trepidation;  but 
at  this  momentous  crisis,  the  feeling  amounted  to 
an  almost  entire  forgetfulness  of  the  arrangement  of 
his  arguments,  and  the  graces  of  language  with 
which  he  had  intended  to  invest  them.  His  speech 
was,  in  consequence,  comparatively  feeble  and  unim- 
pressive, and  very  different  from  that  masterly 
oration  so  well  known  under  the  name  of  the  De- 
fence of  Annius  Milo.  Had  it,  however,  been  delivered 
as  it  at  the  present  moment  exists,  and  with  every 
advantage  which  the  most  finished  action  and  utter- 
ance of  the  speaker  could  have  given  to  its  majestic 
periods,  the  event  of  the  trial  would  probably  not 
have  been  different.  Milo  was  condemned  by  a 
considerable  majority  of  his  judges*  ;  and,  following 

♦  By  the  existing  law  on  the  subject,  (ihe  Lex  Aurelia  Judi- 
ciaria,)  the  judges  were  at  this  time  selected  from  the  senators, 
equites,  and  aerarian  tribunes  ; — the  latter  of  whom  were  officers 
appointed  to  give  out  the  money  for  the  payment  of  the  armies, 
and  always  chosen  from  among  the  plebeians.  The  three  orders 
were  therefore  represented,  though  not  equally;  since  of  the 
eighty-one  judges  appointed  at  the  trial  of  Milo,  twenty-eight  were  of 
the  senatorian,  twenty-seven  of  the  equestrian,  and  twenty-six  of  the 
plebeian  degree.  Before  sentence  was  passed,  both  plaintiff  and 
defendant  had  the  liberty  of  challenging  and  withdrawing  five  indi. 
viduals  from  each  order.  This,  of  course,  left  fifty-one  for  the 
ultimate  decision  of  the  cause.  The  numbers  of  those  wlio  voted 
for  the  acquittal  and  condemnation  of  Milo  are  given  as  follows  by 
Asconius.  for  the  accused.       against. 

Senators,  6  12 

Equites,  4  13 

^rarian  tribunes,    3  13 

13  +  38  =51. 

Majority  against  Milo,  25. 
It  is  also  recorded,  on  the  same  authority,  that  the  speech  of  Cicero 
was  delivered  on  the  3d  of  the  Ides  of  April  (11th). 


298  THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 

the  usual  custom  of  his  countrymen,  prevented  theu: 
sentence  by  retiring  into  voluntary  exile.     He  is  re- 
corded to  have  borne  his  misfortune  with  singular 
equanimity  and  cheerfulness  ;  qualities  of  his  disposi- 
tion which  have  been  most  probably  long  familiar  to 
the  reader,  through  the  medium  of  the  common  tradi- 
tion, that  when  furnished  by  Cicero  with  a  finished  and 
correct  copy  of  the  speech  intended  for  his  defence, 
he  merely  observed  after  perusing  it : — "  It  is  for- 
tunate for  me  that  this  oration  was  never  actually 
spoken;  for  had  it  once  been  delivered,    I   should 
have  been  prevented  from  enjoying  the  flavour  of 
these  excellent  mullets  at   Marseilles*."     His  close 
connection  with  Cicero,  and  the  prominent  part  he 
for  a  shoi-t  time  played  in  the  history  of  his  country, 
may  be    considered   as   justifying   some    degree    of 
curiosity  as  to  the  latter  part  of  his  career.     On 
this  head,  however,  the  testimonies  of  historians  are 
by  no  means  difliise,  and  in  some  respects  contra- 
dictory.    That  he  afterwards  returned  to  Italy,  and 
that  he   met  with   his  death  from  the  blow  of  a 
stone  under  the  walls  of  a  fortress  he  was  besieging, 
while  exerting  himself  in  support  of  the  cause  of 
Pompey  against  Caesar,  (having   been    induced  to 
take   part   against   the    latter,    on   account    of    his 
omitting  him  alone  from  a  general  summons  to  all 
exiles  to  repair  home,)  appears  certain.     The  town 
of  Compsa,  in  the  territory  of  the  Hirpini,  has  been 
mentioned  by  one  writer  as  the  spot  before  which  he 
fell ;  but  a  far  better  authority  asserts  that  the  place 
in  question  was  Cosa,  a  strong  citadel  of  Lucaniat, 
situated  in  the  Ager  Thurinus. 

• — Kifwv  Zri  4v  rvxp  aintf  4y4yfTo,  rh  /li)  ravd'  ovtw  koI  iv  r^ 
9iKaffTTipl(i}  Xfx^Woti'  oh.  yap  tiv  roiavras  iv  t^  MaaaaKia  rpiy\as 
iadUiv  kiiffp  ri  roiovrov  air€\f\6yr)To. — Dio,  Hist.  Rom.  xl. 

f  Ille  (Cffilius)  clam  nuutiis  ad  Milonem  missis,  qui  Clodio 
jnterfecto  a  nomine  erat  damnatus,  atque  eo  in  Italiam  evocato, 
sibi  conjunxit. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


299 


! 


II 


Without  considering  how  far  the  usual  laws  of 
criticism  on  such  subjects  are  to  be  applied  to  a 
speech  which  must  be  considered  rather  as  a  testi- 
mony of  what  the  orator  might  have  done,  than  of  what 
he  actually  performed,  it  may  be  observed,  that  on 
the  intrinsic  merits  of  the  famous  defence  of  Milo, 
there  never  has  been,  and  probably  never  will  be, 
more  than  a  single  opinion.  For  condensed  argu- 
ment, clearness  of  arrangement,  the  power  of  appre- 
ciating and  bringing  to  bear  upon  the  point  to  be 
established  the  slightest  incidents,  and  of  seizing 
upon  and  amplifying  every  shadow  of  inference 
which  might  lead  to  the  advantage  of  the  accused, 
as  well  as  for  the  felicitous  adaptation  of  the  most 
suitable  words  to  the  soundest  reasoning,  it  is  un- 
surpassed even  in  the  compass  of  the  only  writings 
of  antiquity  where  a  rivalry  of  its  excellences 
might  be  looked  for, — the  writings  of  Cicero  him- 
self. The  design  of  the  advocate  is  to  establish  a 
counter-accusation,  and  to  prove  that  the  death  of 
Clodius  was  not  the  effect  of  a  casual  meeting,  but 
the  result  of  a  deeply-laid  plan  on  his  own  part  for 
the  murder  of  Milo  ;  and  the  skill  with  which  his 
design  is  worked  out  is  truly  remarkable.  His  gra- 
phic and  picturesque  description  of  all  the  circum- 
stances calculated  to  exempt  his  client  from  the  sus- 
picion of  a  premeditated  attack, — the  mixed  train  by 

Interim  Milo,  dimissis  circum  municipia  literis,  ea  quae  faceret 
jussn  atque  imperio  facere  Pompeii — quos  ex  aere  alieno  laborare 
arbitrabatur  solicitabat.  Apud  quos  cum  proficere  nihil  posset, 
quibusdam  ergastulis  solutis  Cosam  in  agro  Tiirino  oppugnaro 
coepit.  E6  quum  a  Q.  Psedio  praetore  cum  legione  «  *  • 
lapide  ictus  esset  ex  muro  periit.— Caesar  de  Bello  Civ.  iii.  22. 
This  event,  according  to  Pliny,  (Nat.  Hist.  ii.  57,)  had  been 
prognosticated  a  year  before  by  a  shower  of  wool.  A  still  more 
remaikable  deviation,  however,  from  the  laws  of  nature  is  gravely 
recorded,  by  the  same  writer,  as  having  taken  place  during  the  trial 
of  Milo, — a  storm  of  burnt  bricks. 


300 


THE   LIPE   OP   CICERO. 


which  he  was  accompanied,— the  presence  of  his 
wife  Fausta,  her  female  attendants  and  choristers, — 
the  cumbrous  character  of  the  vehicle  in  which  he 
was  seated,  together  with  that  of  the  dress  which  he 
wore,  and  which  had  nearly  cost  him  his  life  when 
called  upon  to  defend  himself  against  the  sudden  attack 
of  his  intended  assassins,  (although  these  points  of 
advantage  might  demand  no  extraordinary  genius  for 
their   discovery,)    has   been    often   and   deservedly 
praised,  as  well  as  the  skilful  opposition  to  these  par- 
ticulars of  the  arms  and  light  equipment  of  the  well- 
mounted  troop  of  Clodius,  equally  provided  for  offence 
and  for  flight, — his  sudden  and  apparently  uncalled  for 
departure  from  Rome  to  Aricia — his  equally  sudden 
return,  and  his  suspicious  deviation  from  the  road  to 
visit  the  villa  of  Pompey*.     The  unfavourable  con- 
clusion which  might  have  been  drawn  from  the  actual 
issue  of  the  combat,  is  also  ably  eluded.     "  If,"  says 
the  orator,  "  it  be  asked  why,  while  in  possession  of  all 
these  advantages,  the  party  of  Clodius  was  actually 
worsted  in  the  encounter,  I  reply  :  —  because  it  does 
not  always  happen  that  the  traveller  is  slain  by  the 
hand  of  the  robber,  but  the  robber,  occasionally,  by 
that  of  the  traveller : — because,  moreover,  Clodius, 
although  assaulting  with  every  previous  preparation 
one  wholly  unaware  of  his  approach,  fell  with  all  the 

*  Res  loquitur,  judices,  ipsa  ;  quae  semper  valet  plnrimum.  Si 
haec  non  gesta  audiretis  sed  picta  videretis  ;  tatuen  apparebit,  uter 
essetinsidiator,  uter  nihil cogitaret  mali  cum  alter  vehereturin  rheda 
peuulatus,  unk  sederet  uxor.  Quid  horum  non  impeditissimum  ? 
vestitus,  an  vehiculum,  an  comes  ?  quid  minus  promptum  ad  pugnam, 
cum  penul4  iiretitus,  rbed&impeditus,  uxore  pcene  constrictus  esset  ? 
Videte  nunc  ilium,  primum  degredientem  e  villa  subito  ;  cur? 
vesperi ;  quid  necesse  est  ?  tarde  ;  qui  convenit,  id  prssertim  tem- 
poris?  Divertit  in  villam  Pompeii;  Pompeium  utvideret?  sciebat 
in  Alsiensi  esse ;  villam  ut  perspiceret  ?  millies  in  ek  fuerat. 
Quid  ergo  erat  ?  mora  et  tei-giversatio ;  dum  hie  veniret,  locum 
relinquere  noluit. — Pro  Milone,  xx. 


THE   LIPE   OP   CICERO. 


301 


weakness  and  timidity  of  a  woman  into  the  hands  of 
brave  men.     Add  to  this  the  power  of  accident — add 
the  uncertain  issue  of  every  contest,  and  the  impartial 
arbitration  of  battle,  by  which  the  vanquished  and 
prostrate  foe  often  strikes  to   the  earth  the  victor 
while  indulging  in  the  exultation  of  success,  and  in 
the  very  act  of   collecting   the  spoil — add,   finally, 
the  imprudence  of  the  well-feasted  and  half- intoxi- 
cated leader  of  the  band ;  who  having  left  behind 
him,  as  he  imagined,    his  enemy  cut  off  from  all 
chance  of  escape,  thought  nothing  of  the  escort  which 
followed  in  the  rear,  until  having  fallen  among  them 
while  fired  with  resentment,  and  wholly  despairing 
of  the  safety  of  their  master,  he  was  suddenly  in- 
volved in  the  just  retribution  which  faithful  servants 
naturally  exacted  for  that  master's  life."     Nor  in  an 
inferior  style  is  the  beautiful  appeal  to  the  Alban 
heights,  so  long  consecrated  to  the  religious  service 
of  the  Latins*,  and  to  the  desecrated  shrines  which 
had  borne  witness  to  the  extensive  worship  presented 
in  ancient  times  upon  the  spot,  with  the  design  of  en- 
listing the  superstitious  feelings  of  his  audience  in  his 
favour,  while  he  represents  in  vivid  colours  the  awful 
Jupiter  Latiaris,  and  the  whole  host  of  minor  divini- 
ties, (whose  solemn  groves  and  altars,  grey  with  the 
moss  of  centuries,  Clodius  had  sacrilegiously  over- 
thrownfor  the  foundations  of  his  villa,)  aslooking  down 
with  complacency  upon  hisdanger,  and  rejoicing  in  his 

♦  Vos  enim  jam,  Albani  tumuli  atqueluci,  vo8,inquam,  imploro 
atque  testor !  vosque  Albanorum  stratae  arse,  sacrorum  popuU 
Romani  sociffi  et  sequales,  quas  ille  praeceps  amenti^,  caesis  pros- 
tratisque  sanctissimis  lucis,  substructionum  insanis  molibus  oppres- 
serat.  Vestrse  turn  arae,  vestrae  religiones  vigueruut,  vestra  vis 
valuit,  quam  ille  omni  scelere polluerat.  Tuque  ex  tuo  edito  monte, 
Latiaris  sancte  Jupiter,  cujus  ille  lucus,  nemora,  finesque  saepe  omni 
nefario  stupro  et  scelere  macul&rat,  aliquando  ad  eom  puniendura 
oculos  aperuisti.  Vobis  iUae,  vobis,  vestro  in  conspectu,  serffi,  sed 
justa  tamen  et  debit*  poenae,  solutae  sunt.—Pro  Milone,  xxxu. 


802  THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 

late  but  well-merited  punishment.  The  testimony 
extracted  by  the  question  from  the  slaves  of  Clodius, 
is  also  confuted  in  a  manner  which  might  have  been 
expected  to  destroy  for  the  time  to  come,  from  the 
criminal  code  of  Rome,  that  absurd,  monstrous,  and 
appalling  method  of  inquiry  ;  in  reference  to  which 
we  learn  incidentally  from  the  speech  of  the  orator, 
that  the  household  of  tlie  deceased  had  been  kept  for 
a  hundred  days  past  in  close  and  solitary  confinement, 
and  brought  forth  from  time  to  time  in  a  building 
called  in  mockery  the  hall  of  Liberty,  to  be  subject 
to  fresh  torments,  till  depositions  should  be  ob- 
tained from  them  satisfactory  to  the  relations  of 
Clodius.  If  any  fault  is  to  be  found  in  an  address 
possessed  of  so  many  merits,  it  must  be  with  the 
peroration.  To  a  modem  taste,  the  prosopopoeia  of  an 
individual  uttering  the  most  patriotic  sentiments 
through  the  medium  of  his  advocate,  while  the  per- 
son represented  is  known  to  have  stood  quietly  by, 
listening  to  the  formal  representation  of  his  own 
thoughts  and  resolutions,  must  appear  too  theatrical 
and  artificial  to  be  effective.  But  if  this  observation 
be  thought  hypercritical,  it  will  at  least  be  allowed 
that  the  idea,  even  if  unexceptionable  in  the  first 
instance,  has  been  drawn  out  and  enlarged  upon  to 
an  extent,  which  materially  impairs  the  general 
strength  of  the  oration. 

The  impeachment  of  Milo  was  succeeded  by  that 
of  his  friend  Marcus  Saufeius,  accused  of  being  one 
of  the  most  active  in  exciting  the  train  of  Milo  to 
storm  the  house  at  Bovillse  in  which  Clodius  had 
taken  refuge.  In  this  cause  Cicero  again  presented 
himself  against  the  Clodian  faction,  as  counsel  for  the 
accused,  in  conjunction  with  the  tribune  Coelius,  and 
had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  his  efforts  crowned 
with  better  success ;  since  Saufeius,  although  twice 
brought  to  trial  on  different  accounts,  was  on  both 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


303 


ii 


occasions  acquitted.  The  new  law  was  then  directed 
against  the  opposite  party,  and  Sextus  Clodius  having 
been  impeached  for  the  prominent  part  he  had  taken 
in  directing  the  late  excesses  at  the  tumultuous  funeral 
of  his  relative,  was,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the  bet- 
ter disposed  amongthe  citizens,  in  histurnfound  guilty. 
Scipio  and  Hypsaeus  were  then  accused  under  the  late 
act  against  bribery.  The  former  was  rescued  by  the 
interposition  of  Pompey,  who  requested  of  the  senate, 
as  an  especial  act  of  favour,  that  they  would  allow 
him  to  be  exempted  from  prosecution ;  and  crowned 
this  singular  manifestation  of  partiality  by  marrying 
his  daughter  Cornelia,  and  declaring  him  his  colleague 
in  the  consulate  during  the  remaining  months  of  the 
year.  Hypsaeus,  who  had  only  past  claims  upon  his 
favour  to  produce,  was  left  to  experience  the  full 
rigour  of  justice.  The  next  subjects  of  impeachment 
were  selected  from  the  Clodian  party.  The  tribunes 
Plancus  and  Bursa,  who  had  been  amongst  its  most 
active  and  mischievous  supporters,  were  summoned 
to  prepare  for  their  trial  the  moment  their  office  had 
expired,  the  former  being  accused  by  Coelius,  and  the 
latter  by  Cicero.  Both  were  condemned  to  exile, 
although  Bursa  was  defended  by  all  the  influence,  as 
well  as  the  countenance  of  Pompey,  who  appeared  in 
person  as  his  advocate. 

At  the  brief  seasons  of  relaxation  afforded  during 
these  proceedings,  Cicero,  whose  rest  was  only 
change  of  intellectual  exertion,  is  believed  to  have  com- 
posed his  treatise  "  De  Legibus."  The  scene  of  this 
dialogue,  in  which  the  speakers  are  Cicero,  his  brotlier 
Quintus,  and  his  friend  Atticus,  is  laid  by  the  still 
and  sequestered  waters  of  the  Liris*  and  Fibrenus, 

*  "  The  reader  who  delights  in  classical  appellations,  will  be 
pleased  to  hear  that  this  river  still  bears  its  ancient  name,  till  it 
passes  the  city  of  Sora;  that  the  Fibrenus  (still  so  called)  falls  into 
it  a  little  below  that  city,  and  continues  to  encircle  the  little  island 


304  THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

beside  the  walls  endeared  to  the  writer  as  the  former 
residence  of  his  ancestors*,  and  the  whole  work  seems 
to  reflect  the  calm  and  subdued  beauty  of  the  quiet 
autumnal  season  in  which  it  was  probably  composed. 
The  ultimate  principles  of  one  of  the  sublimest  studies 
which  can  engage  the  attention  of  the  human  mind ; — 
those  of  a  science  which  is  entrusted,  to  a  far  greater 
extent  than  any  other,  with  the  most  important  tem- 
poral interests  of  mankind  ; — on  the  slightest  devia- 
tion of  whose  balance  depends  thehappinessormisery  of 
thousands ;  and  which  bases  its  principles  and  grounds 
its  appeal  upon  one  of  the  imperishable  attributes  of 
Deity  itself, — are  the  subject  of  this  striking  speci- 
men of  the  kind  of  investigations  to  which  many  of  the 
great  and  wise  of  antiquity  devoted  the  moments  won 
from  the  more  harassing  pursuits  and  engagements  of 
public  life.  Three  books  alone  remain  of  the  six  ori- 
ginally composed.  The  fitst  two  are  devoted  to  the 
introduction  of  the  inquiry,  and  the  establishment  of 
the  great  rules  by  which  the  practice  of  jurisprudence 

on  \?hich  Cicero  lays  the  scene  of  his  second  dialogue  '  De  Legibus,' 
and  describes  with  so  much  eloquence.  I  must  add,  that  Arpi- 
num,  also  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Fibrenus,  still  retains  its  name,  enno- 
bled by  the  birth  of  that  most  illustrious  Roman." — Classical  Tour, 
vol.  ii.  470. 

*  With  what  harmony  and  justness  of  expression  is  this  feeling 
described ! — ^* Marcus.  Ego  vero  cum  licet  plures  dies  abesse,  pr»ser- 
tim  hoc  tempore  anni,  et  amoanitatem  hancet  salubritatem  sequor; 
raro  autem  licet.  Sed  nimirum  me  alia  quoque  caus^  delectat  quae 
te  non  attingit  ita. — Atticus.  Quae  tandem  ista  causa  est? — Marcus. 
Quia,  si  verum  dicimus,  haec  est  mea  et  hujus  fi-atris  mei,  germana 
patria :  hinc  enim  orti  stirpe  antiquissimA  sumus ;  htc  sacra,  h!c 
genus,  et  majorum  multa  vestigia.  Quid  plura?  Hanc  vides  villam, 
ut  nunc  quidem  est,  latius  sediticatam  patris  nostri  studio  ;  qui  cum 
esset  infirmA  valetudine,  hie  fer^  setatem  egit  in  Uteris.  Sed  hoc 
ipso  in  loco,  cum  avus  viveret,  et  antiquo  more  parva  esset  villa, 
ut  ilia  Curiana  in  Sabinis,  me  scito  esse  natuni.  Quare  inest  uescio 
quid,  et  latetin  animo,  acsensu  meo,  quo  me  plus  hie  locus  fortasse 
delectet ;  siquidem  etiam  elle  sapientissiraus  vir,  Ithacam  ut  videret, 
immortalitatem  scribitur  repudiAsse." — De  Legibus,  if.  2. 


306 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO. 


305 


should  at  all  times  be  directed*.  The  third  treats  of 
the  duties  of  the  Roman  magistracy  as  at  that  time 
constituted,  and  the  wisdom  which  had  prompted 
the  creation,  and  decided  upon  the  provinces  of  the 
several  members,  of  that  body.  The  three  following, 
— which,  had  they  yet  existed,  must,  from  the  nature 
of  their  contents,  comprising  the  opinion  of  Cicero  as 
to  the  best  objects,  forms,  and  provisions  of  legal  enact- 
ments, and  his  judgment  respecting  the  established 
code  of  his  own  country,  have  been  far  more  valuable 
than  those  which  contain  the  mere  exordium  and  first 
entrance  upon  his  plan, — have  unhappily  perished. 

His  attention  to  literary  pursuits  was,  however, 
now  about  to  be  interrupted  by  a  necessity,  which 
called  him  to  a  scene  of  life  hitherto  wholly  untried  ; 
and  compelled  him  to  exchange  the  scenes  he  had 
just  been  describing  with  so  intense  a  perception  of 
their  influence,  for  a  temporary  residence  in  a  distant 
country.  By  one  of  the  provisions  of  Pompey's  laws . 
against  bribery  it  was  ordained,  that  no  praBtor  or 
consul  should,  from  henceforth,  be  appointed  to  any 
province,  until  five  years  had  elapsed  from  the  expi- 
ration of  his  ofl&ce.  The  provision  in  itself  was  cer- 
tainly wise  and  salutary,  since  it  was  calculated  to 
prevent,  by  postponing  the  enjo*yment  of  the  prize 
which  was  the  real  object  of  dispute  among  those 
who  sued  for  the  higher  magistracies  at  Rome,  the 
inordinate  eagerness  and  unbounded  corruption  which 
attended  such  contests,  and  the  thoughtless  extrava- 
gance which,  for  the  most  part,  preceded  them.  It 
was,  however,  at  the  same  time,  sufficiently  partial, 
since  Pompey  was  allowed  to  retain  his  govemnaent 

♦  The  definition  of  justice,  clearing  it  from  abstract  and  intangible 
speculations,  and  referring  it  immediately  to  its  only  intelligible 
source,  the  will  of  a  sovereign  and  perfect  Being,  is  at  once  noble  and 
correct.  "Quamobrem  lex  vera  atque  princeps,  apta  ad  jubendum 
etad  vetandum,  ratio  est  recta  summi  Jovis."< — De  Legibus,  ii.  4. 


THE    LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


307 


306 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE  OP  CICERO. 


307 


of  Spain,  and  Caesar  that  of  the  Gauls.  In  conse- 
quence of  this  regulation,  Cicero,  since  the  appoint- 
ments of  fresh  magistrates  to  the  provinces  were  to  be 
filled  from  persons  who  had  some  time  previously 
enjoyed  the  consular  dignity,  was  forced  to  accept  the 
government  of  Cilicia,  a  charge  for  which  there  is 
little  doubt  that  he  entertained  a  hearty  aversion. 
Yet,  as  on  this  occasion  he  was  convinced  of  the  pro- 
priety of  sacrificing  his  own  feelings  to  the  general 
good,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  comply  with  the  com- 
mand of  the  senate.  A  force  of  two  legions,  which 
at  that  time  might  have  amounted  to  twelve  thousand 
men,  together  with  about  twelve  hundred  cavalry, 
was,  by  a  separate  edict,  placed  under  his  care  for  the 
protection  of  the  province,  which,  besides  Cilicia  Pro- 
per, included  the  neighbouring  countries  of  Pisidia  and 
Pamphylia,  the  island  of  Cyprus,  and  the  three  dioceses 
or  districts  of  Synnada,  Cibyra  and  Apamea.  After 
obtaining  this  decree  and  making  such  preparations  as 
were  necessary,  he  quitted  Rome  in  the  beginning  of 
May,  A.  u.  c.  703,  and  in  the  consulate  of  Servius 
Sulpicius  Rufus  and  Marcus  Claudius  Marcellus  ; 
having  previously  written,  according  to  usual  custom, 
a  complimentary  letter  to  Appius  Pulcher,  his  pre- 
decessor in  the  government  of  Cilicia,  which  is  pre- 
served among  his  correspondence,  informing  him  of 
the  resolution  of  the  senate,  and  requesting  his  good 
offices  towards  lessening  the  difficulties  which  he  na- 
turally expected  to  encounter  at  his  first  entrance 
upon  the  duties  of  his  appointment.  He  was  accom- 
panied by  his  brother  Quintus,  who  had  been 
allowed  to  act  as  his  lieutenant,  as  well  as  by 
his  son  Marcus,  his  nephew  Quintus,  and  his  sister- 
in-law  Pomponia ;  and  pursuing  his  journey  by  way 
of  Arpinum,  Aquinum,  and   Pompeii*,   to  Cumge, 

♦  From  his  villa  near  Pompeii,  he  wrote  the  epistle  to  Atticus, 
(v.  1,)  in  which  he  gives  a  curious,  but  by  no  means  agreeable,  pic- 


I 

i 


was  there  met  by  his  friend  and  rival  in  eloquence, 
Hortensius,  who  took  an  affectionate  farewell  of  him, 
and  received  his  parting  injunctions  to  use  every 
means  in  his  power  to  prevent  his  government  from 
being  continued  to  him  for  a  longer  time  than  the 
ordinary  space  of  a  year.  From  thence  he  proceeded 
through  Beneventum  *  to  Tarentumt,  where  he  ar- 
rived on  the  18th  of  May,  and  spent  three  days  in  the 
company  of  Pompey,  who  was  then  on  a  visit  to  the 
place.  On  the  20th  of  the  same  month,  he  set  out 
for  Brundusium.  At  this  port  he  had  determined  to 
embark  for  Greece,  but  contrary  winds  J  for  some 
time  prevented  him  from  putting  to  sea  ;  and  he  has 
mentioned  an  additional  cause  of  delay,  in  the  absence 
of  his  legate  Pontinus,  the  well  known  conqueror  of 
the  Allobroges,  on  whose  military  skill  he  appears  to 
have  i^laced  the  greatest  reliance. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Jealousies  between  Pompey  and  Caesar — Cicero  at  Athens — He 
anives  at  Ephesus,  and  proceedB  to  Laodicea — Disinterestedness 
of  Cicero  —  Invasion  of  Syria  by  the  Parthians,  who  besiege 
Caius  Cassius  in  Antioch — Cicero  encamps  at  Cybistra — His 
Despatch  to  the  Senate,  giving  Account  of  his  Interview  with 
Ariobarzanes — His  Operations  at  Amanus — Letter  to  Atticus — 
To  the  Senate  and  People — To  Marcus  Cato — Reply  of  the 
latter — Disingenuousness  of  Cicero  with  respect  to  Appius — 
His  Justice  towards  the  Salaminians — Equitable  Character  of 
his  Government — Cicero  at  Tarsus — He  prepares  to  return  to 
Italy — Lands  at  the  Peirseus — Arrives  at  Brundusium,  and  pro- 
ceeds towards  Rome. 

By  the  death    of  Clodius  the  attention  of  men, 
which  had  been  occupied  almost  during  the  whole  of 

ture  of  a  matrimonial  dispute  between  Quintus  and  Pomponia  ;  from 
which  it  appears,  that  whatever  might  be  the  disposition  of  the  Ro- 
man matrons  in  general,  the  latter,  like  Cicero's  own  wife  Terentia, 
was  by  no  means  the  meekest  of  women. 
*  Ad  Attic,  v.  4.  t  Ibid.  +  Ibid. 

X  2 


808 


THE   LIFE   OF  CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


309 


808 


THE    LIFE   OF  CICERO. 


liis  political  career  by  his  noisy  and  turbulent  efforts 
against  the  peace  of  society,  was  now  at  liberty  to  be 
diverted  to  other  intimations  of  discord,  which  having 
long  continued  to  rise,  in  comparative  silence,  from  a 
more  distant  quarter,  had  been  hitherto  disregarded 
amidst  the  scenes  of  tumult  and  confusion  daily  exhi- 
bited in  the  metropolis  ;  and  which  although,  like  the 
minute  clouds  which  are  said,  in  tropical  climates,  to 
rise  before  the  most  tremendous  tempests,  they  might 
have  at  first  appeared  of  little  importance,  were  not 
on  that  account  the  less  fearful  prognostics  of  evil. 

Since  the  death  of  Julia,  and  more  especially  after 
the  marriage  of  Pompey  with  a  daughter  of  the  family 
of  the  Cornelii,  the  already  existing  causes  of  jealousy 
between  Caesar  and  his  late  son-in-law  had  continued 
rapidly  and  constantly  to  increase.  The  lustre  of 
six  successful  campaigns  in  Gaul  had  at  length 
opened  the  eyes  of  the  latter  to  the  fact,  that  he  had 
imprudently  contributed  to  raise  to  eminence  a  leader 
whose  military  genius  was  likely  to  eclipse  his  own  ; 
and,  with  this  conviction,  came  the  no  less  painful 
reflection,  that  although  it  would  have  been  a  task 
of  little  difficulty  to  suppress  so  formidable  a  rival  at 
the  outset  of  his  career,  the  attempt,  if  now  made, 
must  be  one  involving  much  exertion,  considerable 
time,  and  no  small  degree  of  precaution.  While 
Pompey  had  been  confidently  reposing  on  the  strength 
of  his  past  services  at  Rome,  too  well  contented  with 
the  universal  homage  paid  to  him  to  take  any  steps 
to  increase  it,  Caesar,  under  the  appearance  of  yield- 
ing to  him  as  his  superior,  and  only  enjoying  the 
important  position  he  occupied  in  the  state  by  his 
favour,  had  been  with  consummate  prudence  turn- 
ing every  circumstance  in  his  situation  into  a 
means  of  future  advantae^e.  By  his  constant  wars 
in  Gaul,  a  province  considered  too  poor  to  be  worthy 
the  ambition  of  either  of  his  confederates,  he  had, 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  309 

by  dint  of  incessant  service,  formed  an  army  of 
veterans  inured  to  toil  and  danger  to  an  extent  never 
before  witnessed.  The  strong  passes  of  the  Alps,  an 
incalculable  advantage  either  towards  the  success  of 
offensive  or  defensive  operations,  were  in  his  hands ; 
and  the  possession  of  Cisalpine  Gaul  enabled  him  to 
advance  his  troops  within  a  formidable  vicinity  to 
the  city  without  passing  in  any  degree  beyond  the 
bounds  of  his  legitimate  authority.  He  had,  besides, 
by  a  special  law,  been  exempted  from  either  giving  up 
his  command,  or  presenting  himself  in  person  at 
Rome,  if  he  should  think  fit  to  sue  for  the  consulate, 
and  the  important  concession,  as  well  as  dangerous 
precedent,  was  not  likely  to  be  lost  sight  of  in 
the  future  calculations  of  his  ambition.  This  was 
clearly  seen  when  certain  attempts  w^ere  made 
by  a  considerable  party  in  the  senate  to  dis- 
lodge him  from  his  advantageous  post,  by  proposing 
to  send  successors  into  the  provmces  under  his  com- 
mand. His  adherents  in  the  capital  had  influence 
enough  to  make  the  question  a  subject  of  Jong  and 
protracted  debate;  but  the  transfer  of  numerous 
cohorts  to  the  Italian  side  of  the  Alps,  on  the  first 
intelligence  of  the  discussion,  was  a  movement  which 
promised  little  for  his  obedience  to  any  command 
which  might  be  ultimately  issued  for  his  recal. 
Pompey,  who  was  perhaps  the  chief  actor  in  what  was 
probably  intended  at  first  only  as  an  experiment 
upon  the  temper  and  resolution  of  his  rival,  still  con- 
tinued to  wear  the  mask  of  moderation,  and  even,  to 
a  certain  extent,  of  friendship  towards  him,  by  pre- 
tending occasionally  to  interpose  in  his  behalf.  But, 
notwithstanding  this  politic  bearing,  it  was  possible 
for  all  to  discover,  that  between  himself  and  his  more 
daring  and  subtle  competitor  for  dominion  there  was 
but  an  unsubstantial  bond  of  union— a  hollow  truce — 
which  would  be  unscrupulously  broken  the  moment 


310 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


311 


its  violation  promised  to  conduce  to  the  advantage  oF 
either. 

While  the  minds  of  men  at  Rome  were  occu- 
pied with  forebodings  originating  from  these  and 
similar  considerations,  the  waters  of  the  Ionian  sea 
were  studded  with  the  sails  of  the  squadron  con- 
veying Cicero  and  his  escort  towards  the  coast  of 
Epirus,  the  first  stage  of  his  foreign  destination.  On 
the  15th  of  June  he  arrived  (little  anticipating  the 
the  celebrity  which  the  spot  was  afterwards  destined 
to  acquire)  at  Actium,  after  having  landed  on  his 
passage  at  Corcyra.  Here  the  peril  then  thought 
to  attend  an  attempt  to  double  the  dreaded  rock 
of  Leucate,  appears  to  have  determined  him  to 
perform  the  greater  part  of  the  rest  of  his  journey  to 
Athens  by  land.  He  reached  that  city  on  the  25th 
of  June,  and  remained  there  ten  days  in  the  house  of 
Aristus,  a  celebrated  professor  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
Academy,  indulging  in  those  philosophic  disputations 
in  which  he  was  at  all  times  delighted  to  engage,  as 
well  as  in  the  contemplation  of  those  unrivalled  works 
of  art,  towards  which  the  gaze  of  man  was  never  yet 
turned  without  admiration,  and  which  at  that  period 
were  yet  fresh  with  the  impress  of  a  beauty  since 
softened  into  a  less  commanding,  though  perhaps  no 
loss  powerful  expression,  by  the  mellowing  hand  of 
a  partial  decay.  At  Athens  he  was  joined  by  Pon- 
tinus,  and  from  thence  wrote,  at  the  instigation  of  the 
principal  Epicureans,  his  letter  to  Caius  Memmius*,  at 
that  time  at  Mitylene,  dissuading  him  from  following 
out  his  intention  of  building  upon  thespot  yet  occupied 
by  the  remains  of  the  unpretending  dwelling  and  school 
of  the  great  founder  of  the  sect  of  the  Garden,  which 
had  been  granted  him  by  a  decree  of  the  Areopagus. 

He  set  sail  from  the  port  of  Peiraeus  on  the  6th  day 
of  June,  with  a  squadron  of  Rhodian,  Mitylenian,  and 

" '     '  '  '  —  —  -  i 

*  Ad  DiTeiBos,  xiii.  I. 


other  vessels  numerous  enough  to  constitute  a  respect- 
able armament,  and  passing  by  Ceos  and  Gyarus,  the 
latter  not  yet  peopled  with  the  host  of  exiles  who  after- 
wards crowded  its  rocks,  was  carried  by  a  brisk  gale 
to  Delos,  where  he  remained  for  a  short  time  wind- 
bound  ;  and,  as  it  appears,  in  no  very  good-humour 
with  the  flat-bottomed  craft  of  Rhodes,  which  he 
represents  as  wholly  incompetent  to  brave  the  heavy 
swell  of  the  Mgean. 

On  the  22nd  of  June,  or,  as  he  has  expressed  it, 
five  hundred  and  sixty  days  from  the  battle  of 
Bovillse  *,  he  reached  the  coast  of  Asia,  and  landed 
at  Ephesus,  having  previously  touched  at  Samos  t. 
He  was  received  at  his  arrival  in  a  manner  which 
testified  the  extent  and  character  of  his  reputation  in 
that  quarter.  Multitudes  had  already  poured  into 
Ephesus  from  the  neighbouring  districts,  influenced  by 
the  desire  of  beholding  one  whose  wisdom  and  genius 
had  ensured  him  the  highest  place  as  a  statesman  and 
philosopher,  even  in  the  estimation  of  distant  nations, 
and  now,  on  the  first  news  of  his  approach,  hastened 
to  meet  him  with  the  same  marks  of  respect  which 
they  would  have  shown  to  the  actual  praetor  of  the 
province.  He  records,  with  an  honourable  satis- 
faction, that  these  indications  of  esteem  were  not 
abused,  as  in  too  many  cases,  by  any  instance  of  ex- 
tortion on  his  part,  inasmuch  as  his  journey  to  the 
Cilician  frontier  was  not  attended  with  the  slightest 
expense  to  a  single  individual  {.  On  the  last  day  of 
July  he  was  at  Laodicea  §,  after  passing  through  the 
city  of  Tralles,  and  might  now  be  considered  fairly 
within  the  limits  of  his  government.  His  letters 
to  Atticus,  from  both  these  cities,  as  well  as 
from  Ephesus,  are  replete  with  expressions  of 
disgust  at  the  prospect  of  the  employment  before 
him,  with  repinings  for  the  more  .extensive  theatre 

♦  Ad  Attic.  V.  13.  t  Ibid.  :  Ibid.  §  Ibid. 


312 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


for  his  abilities  presented  by  the  metropolis,  and  with 
urgent  requests  to  his  friend  to  do  everything  in  his 
power  to  prevent  the  prolongation  of  his  office,  of  the 
commencement  of  which  he  requests  him  to  take  ac- 
curate note,  in  order  to  move  for  his  recal  at  the 
earliest  opportunity  *. 

It  has  been  observed,  by  a  writer  equally  distin- 
guished by  the  acuteness  of  his  judgment  and  the 
elegance  of  his  language,  that  if  the  principle  of 
liberty  and  due  adjustment  of  power,  by  which  alone 
liberty  is  constituted,  prevailed  in  the  heart  of 
the  Roman  empire,  the  extremities  of  that  mighty 
system  were  subjected  to  a  tyranny  of  the  worst 
possible  descriptiont.     Numerous  proofs  of  this  have 

*  Per  fortunas!  quoniam  Roniae  manes,  primum  illud  prsefulci 
atque  piafiniini  qiiaeso,  ut  simus  annui ;  ne  intcrcaletur  quidem. — Ad 
Attic.  V.  13. — In  provinciA  mea  fore  me  putabam  Cal.  Sextilibus. 
Ex  eft  die,  si  me  amas,  trapairriyfia  iviavctov  commoveto. — v.  14. — 
Laodiceam  veni  pridie  Cal.  Sextiles :  ex  hoc  die  clavum  anni 
movebis. — v.  15. 

t  Montesquieu,  Esprit  des  Loix. — The  most  prominent  evils  af 
the  Roman  system  of  government  abroad  are,  accoMing  to  the  cus- 
tom of  this  great  writer,  summed  up  in  a  few  words,  but  with 
masterly  comprehension. — "Pendant  que  Rome  ne  domina  que  dans 
ritalie,  les  peuples  furent  gouvcrnes  comme  d  s  conffederes.  Oa 
suivoit  les  loix  de  chaque  republique.  Mais  lorsqu'elle  conquit 
plus  loin,  que  le  senat  n'eut  pas  immediatement  I'ceil  sur  les  pro- 
vinces, que  les  mj^strats  qui  etoient  k  Rome  ne  purent  plus  gou- 
verner  I'empire,  il  fallut  envoyer  des  preteurs  et  des  proconsuls. 
Pour  lors  cette  hannonie  des  trois  pouvoirs  ne  fut  plus.  Ceux 
qu'on  envoyoit  avoient  une  puissance  qui  reunissoit  celle  de  toutes 
les  magistratures  romaines ;  que  dls-jc?  celle  m^me  du  peuple. 
C'etoient  des  magistrats  despotiques,  qui  convenoient  beaucoup  ik 
reloiguemcnt  des  lieux  ou  ils  etoient  envoy^s.  lis  exerfoient  les 
trois  pouvoirs  ;  ils  Etoient,  si  j'ose  meservirdece  terme,  les  bachag 
de  la  republique. 

'*  Nous  avons  dit  ailleurs  que  le  m^me  magistrat  dans  la  repub- 
lique doit  avoir  la  puissance  cxecutrice,  civile,  ct  militaire.  Cela 
fait  qu'une  republique  qui  conquiert,  •  ne  peut  guere  communi- 
quer  son  gouvernement  et  regir  Tetat  conquis  selon  Ja  forme  de  sa 
constitution.  En  efFet  le  magistral  qu'elle  envoye  pour  gouvemer 
ayaut  la  puissance  ex6cutrice,  civile,  et  militaire,  il  faut  bieu  qu'il 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


313 


been  already  given  in  the  present  brief  and  necessarily 
limited  history  ;  but  were  no  evidence  produced  of 
the  fact,    it  might   easily  be  inferred  from  a  simple 
consideration  of  the  form  of  the  provincial  govern- 
ment  exercised  by  the  Romans.     Cilicia,  like   too 
many    other  districts  subjected  to  their  despotism, 
had,  when  Cicero    entered   upon    its   management, 
been  reduced  to  a  deplorable  condition  of  misery  by 
the  unprincipled  oppression  of  a  succession  of  rapa- 
cious magistrates,  each  eager  to  glean  sufficient  from 
the   little  left  by  his  predecessors  to  enable  him  to 
spend  the  rest  of  his  life  in  luxurious  enjoyment ; 
and  by  the  avarice  and  dishonesty  of  the  principal 
farmers  of  the  revenue,  who,  residing  for  the  most  part 
at  Rome,  entrusted  the  task  of  collecting  it  to  sub- 
agents  of  the  vilest  character,  generally  conferring  the 
appointment  on  the  highest  bidder,  and,  provided  their 
own  profits  were  secured,  caring  little  by  whom,  or 
to  what  extent,  the  effects  of  their  extortion  might  be 
felt.     The  apprehension  of  a  war  with  a  formidable 
neighbour  was  an  additional  ingredient  in  the  suf- 
ferings  of  the  country  thus  internally  harassed  and 
oppressed.     The  Parthians,  exulting  in  their  recent 
successes,   were    already    pushing    their    advanced 
bodies    across   the  Euphrates,    and    desolating,    by 
means  of  their  formidable  cavalry,  all   the   regions 
which  bordered  the  opposite  bank.     It  was  hourly 
anticipated   that   the   invaders   would   make    their 
appearance  in  some  one  of  the  districts  entrusted  to 
the  government  of  Cicero  ;  yet  to  defend  his  province 
from  an  enemy  which  had  defeated  one  of  the  most 
potent   armies   ever   sent   by  the  republic  into  the 
field,  he  had  at  his  disposal  but  the  two  legions,  and 

ait  aussi  la  puissance  legislative  ;  car,  qui  est-cc  qui  feroit  des  loix 
sans  lui?     U  faut  aussi  qu'il  ait   la  puissance  de  juger ;  car  qui 
est-ce  qui  jugeroit  independamment  de  lui  ?     II  faut  done  que  le 
gouvcrneur  qu'elle  envoye  ait  les  trois  pouvoirs  ;  comme  cela  fut    , 
dans  les  provinces  romaines." — Li  v.  xi.  chap.  20. 


814  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

a  small  body  of  horse,  originally  voted  him  by  the 
senate,  to  which  he  had  in  vain  endeavoured  to 
procure  an  addition,  by  applications  made  to  that 
assembly  while  he  was  yet  at  Brundusium ;  and 
even  of  this  force,  he  afterwards  complained  that 
three  entire  cohorts  were  wanting*.  He  was,  how- 
ever, able  to  rely  upon  a  considerable  body  of  aux- 
iliaries from  his  province,  and  the  whole  army  of 
Deiotarus,  king  of  Galatia,  a  firm  friend  and  ally  of  the 
Roman  people.  A  letter  written  at  this  time  to  Atti  - 
cus  gives  a  striking  picture  of  the  unpromising  aspect 
of  affairs  in  Cilicia  generally,  as  well  as  of  the  condition 
in  which  it  had  been  left  by  his  predecessor  Appius. 

"  CICERO  SENDS  HEALTH  TO  ATTICUS. 

"  Although  the  messengers  charged  with  the  des- 
patches of  the  farmers  of  the  revenue  were  setting 
out  for  Rome  while  I  was  yet  on  my  progress,  I 
have  contrived  to  snatch  a  brief  opportunity  to  pre- 
vent the  danger  of  your  imagining  that  I  have  been 
unmindful  of  your  injunctions,  and  have,  therefore, 
sat  down  on  the  public  road,  briefly  to  mention  a 
few  particulars  upon  a  subject  which  ought  properly 
to  be  treated  at  a  much  greater  length.  Know  then, 
that  on  the  last  day  of  July  I  arrived  in  a  province 
reduced  to  the  last  condition  of  suffering,  and  all 
but  ruined  beyond  recovery,  in  which  my  arrival 
had  been  most  anxiously  expected.  Having  re- 
mained for  three  days  at  Laodicea,  as  many  at 
Apamea,  and  for  the  same  space  of  time  at  Synnada, 
I  have  heard  nothing  in  these  several  cities  but  pro- 

•  See,  on  this  subject,  the  letter  of  M.  Ccelius  to  Cicero.  (Ad  Di- 
versos,  viii.  5.)  "  Nunc  si  Parthus  movet  aliquid  scio  non  mcdiocrcm 
fore  contentionem :  tuus  porro  exercitus  vix  unum  saltum  tueri  po- 
teat.'*  The  observation  which  follows  is  in  perfect  accordance  with 
the  experience  of  all  times  : — "  Hanc  autem  nemo  ducit  rationem  ; 
led  omnia  desiderantur  ab  eo  (tanquam  nihil  denegatum  sit  ei  quo 
miaus  quam  paratisslmus  esset)  qui  publico  uegotio  prsepositua  est.'* 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


315 


testations  on  the  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  their  utter 
inability  to  pay  the  existing  capitation-tax;  com- 
plaints that  every  possession  belonging  to  them  had 
been  sold  ;  groans  and  lamentations  on  the  part  of 
public  bodies ;  and  relations  of  such  acts  of  mon- 
strous oppression,  as  would  more  become  a  ferocious 
brute  than  a  human  being.  The  people,  in  short, 
are  weary  of  their  very  existence.  Yet,  in  the 
depth  of  their  wretchedness,  they  have  derived  some 
little  solace  from  the  circumstance  that  no  contribu- 
tion whatever  is  exacted  from  them,  either  for  my- 
self, my  legates,  my  quaestor,  or  any  one  of  my 
attendants.  Be  it  known  to  you,  also,  that  I  de- 
mand neither  provender  for  my  horses,  nor  firewood, 
nor  any  thing  allowed  by  the  Julian  law* ;  with  the 
single  exception,  that  I  require  to  be  supplied  by 
my  hosts  with  four  beds  and  a  lodging — nay,  some- 
times not  even  this,  since  I  occasionally  am  satisfied 
with  the  shelter  of  my  tent.  In  consequence  of  such 
unexpected  conduct,  incredible  nmltitudes  throng  to 
meet  me,  from  the  open  country,  the  villages,  and 
the  neighbouring  houses.  My  arrival  seems  every- 
where to  inspire  a  fresh  life ; — so  much  have  the 
justice,  the  disinterestedness,  and  the  clemency  of 
your  friend  Cicero  surpassed  the  anticipation  of  all. 
Appius,  on  the  first  news  of  my  approach,  thought 
proper  to  retire  to  the  remotest  part  of  the  province, 
that  is,  as  far  as  Tarsus,  where  he  continues  to  dis- 
pense justice.  We  have  no  news  of  the  Parthians, 
yet  some  persons  who  arrived  at  my  quarters  a  short 
time  ago,  brought  intelligence  that  a  party  of  our 
horse  had  been  cut  off  by  these  barbarians.  Bibulust 

♦  The  Lex  Julia  de  Repetundis,  passed  in  the  first  consulate  of 
Julius  Csesar^  a.  v.  c.  695,  against  exaction  on  the  part  of  foreign 
magistrates.  This  law  contained  more  than  a  hundred  separate 
counts ;  but  little  is  known  of  the  extent  of  the  restrictions  im- 
posed by  it. See  Ernesti  Index  Legum  in  Cic. 

I  The  new  proconsul  of  Syria. 


316 


THE    LIFE  OP   CICERO. 


does  not  seem  to  have  yet  dreamt  of  making  his  ap- 
pearance in  his  government.  This  has  been  ac- 
counted for  by  a  design  which  is  imputed  to  him  of 
quitting  it  so  much  the  later.  I  am  hastening 
towards  my  camp,  from  which  I  am  at  present  dis- 
tant two  days'  journey." 

The  Roman  and  auxiUary  force  collected  by  the 
order  of  Cicero  was  at  this  time  stationed  near  the 
city  of  Iconium,  in  Lycaonia.  Here,  as  soon  as  their 
general  had  arrived  and  reviewed  his  troops,  he  re- 
ceived the  unwelcome  new^s  from  Antiochus,  king  of 
Commagene,  that  the  Parthians  had  crossed  the 
Euphrates  in  force ;  and  the  intelligence  was  shortly 
afterwards  confirmed  by  an  express  despatched  by 
one  of  the  petty  princes  in  alliance  with  Rome, 
commanding  a  district  beyond  Mount  Taurus,  stating, 
that  the  principal  strength  of  the  enemy  consisted  in 
cavalry,  and  that  Pacorus,  the  son  of  Orodes,  was 
at  their  head.  Little  defence  was  made  against  the 
first  burst  of  the  invaders,  the  few  Roman  out- 
posts in  their  road  retreating  successively  before 
them,  until  they  had  penetrated  far  enough  into 
Syria  to  invest  Antiocli,  where  Caius  Cassius, 
afterwards  the  celebrated  conspirator  against  Julius 
Cagsar,  was  at  that  time  stationed  in  garrison  with 
the  principal  wrecks  of  the  army  of  Crassus,  having 
accompanied  its  ill-starred  leader  on  his  expedition 
as  quaestor,  and  afterwards  conducted  the  retreat  of 
the  Romans  thus  far,  with  consummate  skill.  Before 
the  direction  which  the  Parthian  army  had  taken  was 
fully  known,  Cicero,  imagining  that  Cilicia  was 
their  object,  hastened  to  take  post  in  Cappado- 
cia,  through  which  his  province  was  most  vulnerable ; 
and  having  advanced  as  far  as  the  town  of  Cybis- 
tra,  entrenched  himself,  in  constant  expectation  of 
their  appearance.  His  son  and  nephew,  the  younger 
Marcus  and  Quintus  Cicero,  were  at  the  same  time 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERd. 


317 


•      \ 


entrusted  to  the  care  of  Deiotarus,   and  escorted  by 

him  into  his  kingdom,  where,  as  in  a  place  of  greater 

safety,   it  was  intended  that  they  should  remain  as 

lonw  as  the  Roman  army  continued  to  keep  the  field. 

While  encamped  in  this  position,  he  was  visited  by 

Ariobarzanes,    who   had   been   declared,    after   the 

assassination  of  his  father  by  his  own  subjects,  king 

of  Cappadocia  by  the  Roman  senate,  and  entrusted 

to  the  especial  care  of  the  proconsul  of  the  neighbour- 

ino"  province.     The  objects  and  issue  of  the  journey 

of  this  prince,  as  well  as  the  operations  which  had 

preceded  it,  are  thus  detailed  in  the  public  despatch 

of  Cicero  on  the  occasion*  : — 

<'  MARCUS  TULLIUS  CICERO,  THE  SON  OF  MARCUS, 
PROCONSUL,  WISHES  PUBLIC  PROSPERITY  TO  THE 
CONSULS,  PR^TORS,  TRIBUNES  OF  THE  PEOPLE, 
AND  SENATE. 

"  After  I  had  arrived  in  my  government  on  the 
last  day   of  July,  having  been  unable  to   reach  it 
sooner  on  account  of  the  difficulties  and  delays  which 
occurred  during  my  voyage,  and  the  bad  condition  of 
'  the  public  roads,  I  judged  it  most  consistent  with  my 
duty,  as  well  as  most  to  the  advantage  of  the  repub- 
lic, to  make  the  necessary  preparations  for  placing 
the  military  force  of  the  province  on   as  efficient  a 
footing  as  possible.     As  soon  as  I  had  accomplished 
this,  more  by  my  own  care  and  diligence  than  by  the 
employment  of  any  abundance  of  means  at  my  com- 
mand,  I   determined,  since   messengers   and  letters 
were  arriving  almost  daily  with  intelligence  respect- 
ing the  irruption  of  the  Parthians  into  Syria,  upon 
directing  my  march   through  Lycaonia,  Isauria,  a,nd 
Cappadocia  ;  it  being  strongly  suspected  that  the  in- 
vaders, if  they  thould  resolve  upon  abandoning  Syria, 
and  entering  my  province,  would  direct  their  course 

♦  Ad  Diversos,  xv.  2. 


319 


THE   LIFE  OP   CICERO. 


through  Cappadocia,  the  quarter  in  which  it  was 
most  exposed.  Having,  accordingly,  advanced 
through  the  regions  of  the  above  district  which 
border  upon  Cilicia,  I  pitched  my  camp  near  Cybis- 
tra,  (a  town  situated  close  to  Mount  Taurus,) — both 
that  Artavasdes,  the  king  of  Armenia,  whatever 
might  be  his  disposition  towards  us,  might  know  that 
an  army  of  the  Roman  people  was  close  to  his  confines, 
and  that  I  might  act  in  conjunction  with  Deiotarus, 
a  prince  influenced  by  a  feeling  of  the  utmost  fidelity 
and  friendship  towards  our  commonwealth,  whose 
counsels,  as  well  as  the  resources  at  his  disposal, 
were  likely  to  prove  of  great  service  to  the  state. 

"  While  I  was  encamped  at  this  place,  after  having 
sent  my  cavalry  into  Cilicia,  that  the  news  of  my 
approach,  when  announced  among  the  cities  in  that 
direction,  might  confirm  the  inliabitants  in  their  alle- 
giance, and  that  I  might  have  early  intelligence  of 
what  was  going  forward  in  Syria,  I  imagined  that 
the  three  days  during  which  I  continued  stationary 
might  be  devoted  to  the  performance  of  an  important 
and  necessary  service.  For  since  I  had  been  enjoined 
by  your  authority  '  to  protect  king  Ariobarzanes, 
sumamed  the  "  Pious  and  well-disposed  to  Rome*," 
to  keep  inviolate  the  safety  of  that  monarch  as  well  as 
his  kingdom,  and  to  act  as  a  guardian  both  to  himself 
and  his  kingdom  ;*  and  since  you  had  also  added,  '  that 
the  safety  of  the  same  king  was  an  object  of  great 
concern  to  the  senate  and  people,'  a  compliment  never 
yet  decreed  to  any  princes  by  our  Order,  I  considered 
it  my  duty  to  convey  the  expression  of  your  opinion 
to  Ariobarzanes,  and  promise  him  my  protection, 
amity,  and  ready  services;  that  he  might,  understand- 
ing the  interest  you  had  evinced  for  his  own  welfare 

•  Euseben  et  Philorhomseum.  Both  these  titles  are  yet  to  be 
seeiK  on  ancient  medals  of  Ariobarzanes,  which  are  inscribed  Mith 
the  legend  APIOBAPZANOT2  ET2EBOT2  ♦lAOPHMAIOT. 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO.  319 

and  the  peace  of  his  kingdom,  inform  me  if  he  had 
any  occasion  for  our  assistance. 

"  After  I  had  made  a  communication  to  this  effect 
to  the  king  in  presence  of  my  council,  he,  at  the 
commencement  of  his  reply,  expressed  his  obligation 
in  the  strongest  terms,  as  indeed  was  incumbent  upon 
him,  to  yourselves  in  the  first  place,  and  afterwards  to 
me;  saying  that  it  appeared  a  great  and  most  honour- 
able distinction  that  the  senate  and  people  of  Rome 
had  so  deeply  concerned  themselves  in  his  welfare, 
while  it  was  also  evident  how  entirely  he  might  rely 
upon  my  expressions  of  friendship  and  the  influence 
of  the  authority  of  your  commendation,  from  the 
diligence  I  had  already  shown  in  advancing  his  inte- 
rests. He,  at  the  same  time,  to  my  great  satisfaction, 
gave  me  to  understand  that  he  neither  knew  of,  nor 
even  suspected  the  existence  of  any  secret  designs 
either  against  his  life  or  his  regal  authority.  When 
I  had  congratulated  him  on  this  point,  and  expressed 
my  joy  at  the  intelligence,  and  finally  exhorted  him 
to  remember  the  calamitous  death  of  his  father,  to  be 
vigilant  in  providing  the  means  of  self-defence,  and  to 
take,  in  pursuance  with  the  advice  of  the  senate, 
every  means  for  the  preservation  of  his  safety,  he  took 
leave  of  me,  and  departed  to  the  town  of  Cybistra. 

"  On  the  day  following  he  came  once  more  into  our 
camp,  in  company  with  his  brother  Ariarathres,  and 
attended  by  several  aged  friends  of  his  father,  and 
with  great  signs  of  agitation  and  many  tears,  while 
his  brother  fully  participated  in  his  emotion, began  to 
implore  my  assistance,  on  the  strength  of  my  pro- 
mises and  your  recommendation.  While  I  was  won- 
dering what  sudden  change  of  circumstances  had 
induced  this  distress,  he  informed  me  that  decided 
evidences  of  a  dangerous  conspiracy,  which  up  to  the 
present  moment  had  been  concealed,  had  been  just 
laid  before  him ;  that  those  acquainted  with  it  had 


820  THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO, 

hitherto  suppressed  their  information  under  the  influ- 
ence of  fear,  but  in  reliance  upon  my  protection  had 
now  boldly  revealed  all  the  knowledge  they  possessed 
upon   the  subject.      He  moreover  stated   that  his 
brother,  who  possessed  the  greatest  affection  towards 
him,  had  informed  him  of  a  circumstance,  which  the  in- 
formant referred  to  also  acknowledged  in  my  presence, 
namely,  that  he  had  been  sounded  by  the  confederates 
to  ascertain  how  far  his  ambition  of  reigning  in  the 
place  of  Ariobarzanes  might  be  relied  upon,  and  as- 
sured that  such  an  event  could  never  take  place  while 
the  latter  remained  alive ;  although,  from  a  feeling  of 
apprehension,  he  had  never  yet  denounced  those  con- 
cerned in  the  plot.     When  he  had  finished  speaking, 
I  again  advised  the  king  to  take  every  precaution  for 
ensuring  his  security,  and  exhorted  those  friends  about 
him,  whose  fidelity  had  been  approved  by  the  judgment 
of  his  father  and  grandfather,  to  defend,  instructed  by 
the  terrible  example  of  the   murder   of  the  former 
monarch,  the  life  of  his  son  by  all  the  means  of  pro- 
tection  in   their    liands.      But   when   Ariobarzanes 
proceeded  to  request  that  I  would  supply  him  with  a 
guard  of  cavalry  and  infantry  from  my  own  army, 
although  I  had  not  only  the  power,  but  was  even  laid 
under  the  obligation   of  doing  so  by   the  tenor  of 
your  decree,  I  did  not  think  proper  to  comply  with 
the  demand,  inasmuch  as  the  interests  of  the  republic 
required,  in  consequence  of  daily  despatches  I  conti- 
nued to  receive  from  Syria,  that  I  should  advance 
with  my  whole  force  to  the  confines  of  Cilicia;  and  as, 
moreover,    since  the   conspiracy   was  laid   open,  it 
appeared  to  me  that  the  king  no  longer  needed  the 
assistance  of  the  Roman  arms,  but  could  defend  himself 
by  his  own  strength.     I  was  therefore  contented  with 
advising  him  to  make  his  own  preservation  his  first 
lesson  in  the  art  of  government,  to  use  his  absolute 
authority  against  those  who  were  convicted  of  plotting 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO. 


821 


against  him,  to  punish  those  who  had  deserved  seve- 
rity, and  to  set  the  rest  free  from  apprehension,  to 
use  finally  the  safeguard  afforded  by  my  army,  rather 
as  the  means  of  preventing  than  of  suppressing  a 
revolt,  while  I  at  the  same  time  assured  him,  that  as 
soon  as  the  decree  of  the  senate  in  his  favour  was 
known,  all  would  understand  that  I  should,  whenever 
it  might  be  necessary,  be  ready  to  afford  him  assist- 
ance in  compliance  with  your  injunctions.  Having 
restored  his  confidence  by  such  arguments,  I  decamped 
from  the  spot,  departing  from  Cappadocia  with  the 
impression  that,  owing  to  your  wise  regulations,  and 
by  an  almost  incredible  and  divinely  afforded  acci- 
dent, my  approach  had  freed  from  the  peril  of  a  for- 
midable plot  a  monarch  whom  you  had  voluntarily 
dignified  with  the  most  honourable  title,  commended 
to  my  especial  care,  and  decreed  to  be  the  subject  of 
your  most  anxious  concern.  The  contents  of  this 
despatch  I  consider  far  from  superfluous,  that  you 
may  understand  how  great  has  been  your  prudence 
and  foresight  in  taking  precautions  against  an  event 
which  has  all  but  actually  happened,  and  that  you 
may  be  assured  on  my  part,  that  I  have  beheld  those 
signs  of  virtue,  fidelity  and  regard  towards  you  in 
Ariobarzanes  as  to  justify  all  the  interest  you  have 
manifested  in  his  defence  and  preservation." 

On  the  receipt  of  more  accurate  intelligence  respect- 
ing the  direction  taken  by  theParthians,  Cicero,  think- 
ing that  Cappadocia  was  not  likely  to  be  threatened  by 
their  movements,  resolved  upon  shifting  his  position 
to  the  frontiers  of  Cilicia,  and  accordingly  decamping 
from  Cybistra,  led  his  army  towards  the  ridge  of 
Am  anus,  which  seems  to  have  been  inhabited  by  a 
fierce  and  hardy  race,  whom  Plutarch  describes  as 
maintaining  the  character  for  dishonesty,  for  which 
their  nation  was  proverbial,  by  a  regularly  organised 
system  of  pillage  against  their  neighbours.    Yet  their 

Y 


322  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

undaunted  and  long-continued  efforts  to  preserve  the 
last  spark  of  independence  unquenched  among  their 
almost  inaccessible  rocks,  is  a  circumstance  which  must 
excite  some  degree  of  sympathy  for  their  ruin,  and 
might  perhaps  render  necessary,  if  it  did  not  justify, 
the  predacious  habits  for  which  they  were  notori- 
ous. Against  these,  since  the  Parthians  were  ascer- 
tained to  be  still  far  distant,  Cicero  decided  upon 
turning  his  arms,  and  his  account  of  his  operations 
in  this  quarter,  contained  in  a  letter  to  Atticus,  is  as 
follows : — 

"  CICERO    TO    ATTICUS,  &C. 

"  Early  on  the  morning  of  the  feast  of  the  Satur- 
nalia, I  received  the  surrender  of  the  Pindenissians,  on 
the  forty-seventh  day  after  the  commencement  of  the 
siege.  The  Pindenissians !  you  will  exclaim ;  who  the 
plague  are  these  ?  for  I  never  yet  heard  their  name. 
What  can  I  do  to  explain  it  ?  Is  it  in  my  power  to  turn 
Cilicia  into  ^tolia  and  Macedonia*  ?  Be  assured  of 
this,  however,  that  with  such  an  army  as  mine,  no 
such  glorious  exploits,  as  have  been  performed  in  these 
countries,  could  be  effected  here.  This  you  will 
understand  from  the  brief  abstract  of  my  proceedings 
which  I  now  send  you,  availing  myself  of  the  per- 
mission contained  in  your  last  letter. 

"  In  what  way  I  approached  Ephesus  you  already 
know :  since  you  have  congratulated  me  on  that  day 
of  triumphant  popularity,  than  which  nothing  in  the 
course  of  my  life  has  given  me  greater  delight.  From 
thence,  after  receiving  wonderful  tokens  of  respect  in 
the  different  cities  through  which  I  passed,  I  reached 


•  Saturnalibus  mane  se  milii  Pindenissa  dediderunt,  septimo  ct 
quadragesimo  die  postquaro  oppugaare  eos  coDpimus.  Qui,  malum  ! 
isti  Pindenisssc  ?  qui  sunt  ?  inquics ;  nomen  audivi  nunquam. — Quid 
ego  faciam  1  potui  Ciliciam  iEtoliam  aut  Maceduniam  reddere  ? — 
-A.d  Attic.  V.  20. 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


323 


Laodicea  on  the  last  day  of  July,  Having  remained 
there  two  days,  I  constituted  during  that  time  the 
one  object  of  admiration  in  that  city;  and,  by  my 
assurances  of  regard  for  the  people,  succeeded  in 
eradicating  the  recollection  of  all  former  injuries.  I 
afterwards  halted  at  Apamea  for  five  days,  under 
the  same  circumstances ;  for  three  days  at  Synnada, 
five  at  Philomelum,  and  ten  at  Iconium.  Nothing 
could  be  more  just,  nothing  more  gentle,  nothing 
more  dignified,  than  my  jurisdiction  in  these  places. 
From  Iconium  I  proceeded  to  my  camp,  which  I 
reached  on  the  26th  of  August,  and,  four  days  after- 
wards, held  a  general  review  of  my  army.  From 
this  position,  since  intelligence  of  a  serious  character 
had  been  received 'concerning  the  Parthians,  I  ad- 
vanced towards  Cilicia,  by  that  part  of  Cappadocia 
which  borders  upon  it,  w^ith  the  design  that  the 
Armenian  king,  Artavasdes,  as  well  as  the  Par- 
thians themselves,  might  understand  that  the  road 
through  Cappadocia  was  closed  against  them.  After 
I  had  remained  for  five  days  in  my  quarters  near 
Cybistra,  I  was  informed  that  the  Parthian  army 
was  at  a  considerable  distance  from  that  way  of  en- 
trance into  Cappadocia,  and  appeared  rather  to 
threaten  Cilicia.  I,  therefore,  led  my  forces  in  all 
haste  into  the  latter  province,  through  the  defiles  of 
Mount  Taurus.  I  reached  Tarsus  on  the  5th  of 
October,  from  whence  I  proceeded  to  Amanus — a 
mountain  ridge  which  divides  Cilicia  from  Syria, 
pouring  its  streams  into  both  districts,  and,  at  that 
tune,  crowded  with  our  perpetual  enemies,  of  whom 
we  slew  great  numbers  on  the  13th  of  October.  We 
also  took,  and  laid  in  ashes,  some  of  their  strong- 
holds, although  secured  by  formidable  defences,  by 
the  advance  of  Pontinus  against  them  during  the 
night,  which  I  seconded  in  person  on  the  following 
morning.     For  this  I  was  saluted  with  the  title  of 

y2 


324 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICEKO, 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


325 


Imperator*.     I  tlien  encamped  for  a  short  time  on 
the  very  spot,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Issus,  which 
was  formerly  occupied  by  Alexander,  a  general  by 
many  degrees  superior  to  either  of  us.     Having  re- 
mained there  five  days,  and  completely  ravaged  and 
desolated  Amanus,  we  withdrew  our  forces.     You 
know  that  there  exists  a  certain  feeling  termed  panic, 
or  vague  and  groundless  apprehension  in  wart.     By 
the  news  of  my  approach  fresh  confidence  was  given 
to  Cassius,  who  was  blockaded  in  Antioch,  and  a 
general  terror  inspired  among  the  Parthians.     They, 
therefore,  resolved  upon  raising  the  siege ;   and  Cas- 
sius, sallying  out  and  falling  upon  them  during  their 
retreat,  succeeded  in  gaining  a  signal  victory.     In 
the  rout  which  followed,  Osaces  the  Parthian  gene- 
ral, a  leader  of  great  authority,  received  a  wound  of 
which  he  died  a  few  days  afterwards.     My  reputa- 
tion was,  in  consequence,  raised  to  the  gxeatest  height 
in  Syria. 

*'  Bibulus  in  the  meantime  arrived,  and  influenced, 
as  I  believe,  by  the  ambition  of  \\eing  upon  a  level 
with  me  in  the  empty  honour  I  had  just  acquired, 
began  to  seek  for  easily  acquired  laurels  on  that  same 

*  This  salutation,  conferred  by  the  Roman  armies  in  the  earlier 
wars  of  the  republic  upon  their  generals  only  after  the  most  deci- 
sive successes,  appears  in  the  time  of  Cicero  to  have  been  bestowed 
on  much  less  important  occasions.  Appian,  who,  however,  flou- 
rished at  a  much  later  period,  asserts  that  in  his  day,  the  title  was 
never  given  to  any  commander  unless  ten  thousand  of  the  enemy 
had  perished  in  the  field.  To  be  saluted  Imperator  was  considered 
as  introductory  to  the  honour  of  a  triumph. 

f  "  Scis  enim  dici  qusedam  vdviKo^  dici  item  to.  Kiva  rod  iro\4- 
fiov,"  a  passage  of  some  ambiguity  in  its  application,  and  which 
Melmoth  does  not  seem  to  have  very  clearly  rendered  by — "There 
are  beings  which,  though  empty  phantoms,  appearing  in  the  field 
of  battle,  spread  fear  and  c«>nsternation."  The  allusion  on  the 
part  of  Cicero  is  no  doubt  to  the  panic  terror  caused  to  the  invading 
army  by  the  intelligence  of  his  approach,  which  may  have  really 
decided  the  campaign  in  favour  of  the  Romans. 


\ 


i-idge  of  Mount  Amanus.  He  lost,  however,  the 
whole  of  his  first  cohort,  Asinius  Dento,  a  centurion 
of  the  first  rank  and  great  reputation,  several 
other  officers  of  the  same  division,  and  Sextus  Luci- 
lius,  a  military  tribune,  and  the  son  of  a  man  of 
great  wealth  and  dignity.  This,  it  must  be  owned, 
was  an  awkward  defeat,  whether  we '  consider  the 
actual  mischief  inflicted  by  it,  or  the  juncture  at 
which  it  happened, 

"  I  then  surrounded,  with  a  regular  line  of  circum- 
vallation,  the  town  of  Pindenissum,  which  had 
always  been  considered  as  the  strongest  and  most 
capable  of  defence  of  all  the  strongholds  of  the  Eleu- 
thero-Cilicians ;  and,  having  raised  agaiast  it  an 
immense  embankment  and  tower,  and  assailed  it 
with  a  great  number  of  engines  and  hosts  of  archers, 
I  succeeded  in  my  attempt  after  excessive  labour, 
extensive  preparations,  and  many  wounds  received, 
although  with  little  actual  loss  to  the  army.  Truly, 
a  joyful  Saturnalia!  I  have  given  up  to  the  soldiers 
the  whole  of  the  booty,  with  the  exception  of  the 
horses.  The  captives  were  sold  on  the  19tli  of 
December;  and,  while  I  write  this  letter  on  my 
tribunal,  the  money  paid  for  them  already  amounts 
to  twelve  millions  of  sesterces.  I  have  consigned 
to  my  brother  Quintus  the  charge  of  conducting 
the  army  into  winter-quarters  in  a  district  yet 
somewhat  unsettled,  and  have  returned  myself  to 
Laodicea*." 

A  somewhat  more  minute  account  of  the  transac- 
tions at  Amanus  is  given  by  him  in  a  letter  to 
Marcus  Cato,  which  is  additionally  curious  from 
the  attempts  made  in  it  to  flatter  the  rigid  stoic 
into  an  acquiescence  in  any  honour  which  the  senate 
might  decree  to  him,  in  acknowledgment  of  his  recent 
successes.  The  following  are  extracts  from  the  epistle. 
;  *  Ad  AtUc.  V.  20. 


326  THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

"  Having  been  informed  by  several  messengers  and 
epistles  that  a  strong  force  of  Partbians  and  Arabians 
had  advanced  as  far  as  the  city  of  Antioch,  and  that 
a  considerable  body  of  their  cavalry,  which  had  pe- 
netrated into  Cilicia,  had  been  cut  to  pieces  by  some 
advanced  troops  of  my  own  horse,  and  the  praetorian 
cohort  stationed  in  garrison  at  Epiphania,  I  hastened 
by  forced  marches  towards  Amanns,  since  I  plainly 
perceived  that  the  Parthians,  after  being  checked  on 
the  side  of  Cappadocia,  would  not  long  be  distant 
from  the  Cilician  frontier.  On  arriving  at  this  post 
I  was  given  to  understand  that  the  enemy  had  raised 
the  siege  of  Antioch,  and  that  Bibulus  was  now  in 
that  city.  On  this,  I  immediately  sent  w^ord  to 
Deiotarus,  who  was  on  his  march  to  join  me  with  a 
numerous  and  efficient  army  both  of  horse  and  foot, 
and,  in  fact,  all  the  force  he  could  muster,  that  I  saw- 
no  longer  any  reason  for  withdrawing  him  from  his 
kingdom ;  promising  that  I  would  give  him  instant 
information,  by  letters  and  envoys  of  the  occurrence 
of  anything  new. 

"  And  since  I  had  advanced  thus  far,  with  the 
intention  of  rendering  assistance  to  either  province  if 
circumstances  should  demand  it,  I  determined,  under 
the  conviction  that  it  would  much  conduce  to  the  tran- 
quillity of  both,  to  prevent  tlie  occupants  of  the  ridge 
of  Amanus  from  again  disturbing  them,  by  removing 
from  thence  those  ancient  and  inveterate  enemies  to 
our  nation.  Pretending,  therefore,  a  retreat  from  the 
mountain  towards  a  different  part  of  Cilicia,  and,  pro- 
ceeding one  day's  march  as  if  in  pursuance  of  this 
design,  I  pitched  my  camp  at  Epiphania  on  the  12th  of 
October ;  and  on  the  evening  of  tlie  same  day,  having 
made  a  counter-march,  with  my  army  entirely  dis- 
encumbered of  its  baggage,  returned  towards  my 
former  station  with  so  much  expedition,  that,  before 
the  morning  began  to  break,  I  was  again  stationed 


ll 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


327 


\ 


on  the  ascent  to  the  heights.     Having  made  the  ne- 
cessary dispositions,  and  retained  my  brother  Quin- 
tus  to  act  with  myself,  while  I  assigned  the  command 
of  another  detachment  to  Caius  Pontinus,  my  lieu- 
tenant, and  of  a  third  to  Marcus  Anneius  and  Lucius 
TuUius,  we  made  a  general  attack  upon  the  enemy, 
who,  for  the  most  part,  little  expected  our  approach, 
and  were  either  taken  prisoners  or  killed  upon  the 
spot,  being  precluded  from  the  possibility  of  fliglit. 
Pontinus,  who  commanded  in  that  direction,  then 
assaulted  and  took  by  storm  Erana,  which  was  more 
like  a  city  than  a  village,  as  being  the  chief  town  on 
the  Amanus,  together  with  Sepyra  and  Commons. 
These  places  were  not  captured  without  a  desperate 
defence  on  the  part  of  the  inhabitants,  the  several 
assaults  continuing  from  day-break  until  the  tenth 
hour.     A  great  multitude  of  the  enemy  were  slain, 
and  six  forts  taken :  several  more  were  set  on  fire  and 
consumed.     After  these  operations  I  remained  en- 
camped at  the  foot  of  Amanus  for  four  days  longer, 
near  the  altars  of  Alexander*,  devoting  the  whole  of 
that  time  to  the  destruction  of  the  remaining  villages 
and  crops  on  that  part  of  the  mountain  included 
within  my  province.     I  then  led  my  forces  to  Pin- 
denissum,  a  city  of  Eleuthero-Cilicia,  which,  since  it 
was  built  in  a  strong  and  commanding  situation,  and 
inhabited  by  those  who  had  never  yet  yielded  obedi- 
ence even  to  their  own  kings ;  w^ho  had,  moreover, 
afforded  a  free  refuge  to  fugitives,  and  were  anxiously 
expecting  the  arrival  of  the  Parthians,  I  judged  it 
necessary  to  the  credit  of  our  empire  to  reduce  ;  and 
to  punish   the  insolence  of  those  within  its  w'alls, 
that  the  spirit  of  others  ill -disposed  towards  us  might 
be  the  more  easily  subdued.     I,  therefore,  surrounded 
the  place  with  a  ditch   and  rampart,   and  having 

*  Tlie  three  a  tars  erected  by  Alexander  to  Jupiter,  Minerva,  and 
Hercules,  on  the  memorable  plains  of  Issus,  to  commemorate  his 
victory  over  Darius, 


328 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


closely  straitened  it  by  six  forts,  in  addition  to  a 
strongly  entrenched  camp,  I  made  my  approaches 
towards  it  by  means  of  embankments,  vineae,  and 
moveable  towers.  I  also  employed  against  it  military 
engines  of  all  descriptions,  and  a  strong  body  of 
archers,  and  after  great  personal  exertions,  although 
"without  the  least  trouble  or  expense  to  our  allies, 
brought  my  undertaking  to  a  favourable  issue  on  the 
fifty-seventh  day  of  the  siege  ;  since  the  inhabitants, 
after  almost  every  quarter  of  the  place  had  either 
been  set  on  fire  or  laid  in  ruins,  were  compelled  to 
surrender  at  discretion.  The  Tiburani,  a  neighbour- 
ing tribe,  equally  daring  and  unprincipled,  agreed  to 
give  hostages  for  their  good  conduct  on  receiving  in- 
telligence of  the  fall  of  Pindenissum.  I  was,  there- 
fore, enabled  to  send  my  army  into  winter-quarters, 
and  consigned  it  to  my  brother  Quintus,  to  be  sta- 
tioned in  those  villages  wliich  had  just  been  captured, 
or  which  were  not  yet  reduced  to  perfect  obedience. 

"  And  now  I  have  to  request  you  to  belie.ve,  that 
supposing  any  motion  be  made  on  this  subject  in  the 
senate,  I  shall  think  it  my  highest  glory  if  any 
honour  awarded  to  myself  is  supported  by  your  ap- 
probation. And  altliough  I  am  aware  that  ijfien  of 
the  utmost  dignity  and  influence  are  accustomed  botli 
to  receive  and  to  offer  requests  of  tliis  nature,  I 
think  that  you  ought  rather  to  be  reminded  of  past 
professions,  than  exposed  to  fresli  entreaties.  Let  me 
recall  to  your  recollection  the  fact  of  your  having  on 
very  many  occasions  distinguished  me  in  the  most 
flattering  manner  by  your  vote.  In  your  speeches, 
moreover,  both  before  the  senate  and  the  people,  you 
have  literally  exalted  me  to  the  very  heavens  by 
commendations.  And  such  is  my  opinion  of  the 
influence  of  your  words,  that  by  one  single  expres- 
sion in  my  favour,  I  have  always  conceived  myself 
elevated  to  the  highest  point  of  dignity  which  it  was 
possible  for  me  to  reach. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICEROi 


829 


"  I  remember  too  that  when,  on  a  former  occasion, 
you  opposed  the  supplication  about  to  be  decreed  to 
a  most  illustrious  and  deserving  individual,  you 
asserted  that  you  would  willingly  support  the  motion, 
if  the  honour  were  proposed  for  the  conduct  of  the 
same  person  in  the  city  during  his  consulate.  You 
also  assented  to  the  supplication  decreed  to  myself 
while  holding  only  a  civil  office,  and  not  granted,  as  to 
many,  for  tlie  successful  management  of  a  war,  but, 
as  to  no  one  before  my  time,  for  the  actual  preserva- 
tion of  the  state.  I  will  not  dwell  upon  your  readi- 
ness to  share  with  me  tlie  envy,  the  perils,  the  storms, 
which  have  hitherto  attended  my  public  career,  and 
which  I  bear  you  witness,  you  w^ould  have  encoun- 
tered to  a  much  greater  extent,  if  I  could  have  been 
prevailed  upon  to  allow  it;  or,  finally,  upon  your  gene  - 
rosity  in  considering  my  greatest  enemy  your  own, 
and  even  expressing  your  approbation  of  his  death  in 
the  senate  during  the  proceedings  in  the  case  of  Milo, 
that  I  might  fully  understand  the  nature  and  extent 
of  your  regard  towards  me.  On  the  other  hand,  and 
I  mention  this  not  as  any  benefit  conferred  upon  you, 
but  rather  as  an  evidence  of  my  real  conviction  and 
judgment,  I  have  not  been  contented  with  silently 
admiring  your  eminent  virtues,  (for  what  man  is 
there  who *^  does  not  do  this  ?)  but  in  every  oration, 
and  every  vote ;  in  all  my  pleadings,  in  my  writings, 
Latin  as  well  as  Greek,  in  every  kind  of  literature, 
in  short,  in  which  I  have  at  any  time  engaged,  I 
have  mentioned  you  as  superior  not  only  to  every  one 
whom  I  have  hitherto  seen,  but  to  all  of  whom  I 
have  ever  heard. 

''  You  will,  perhaps,  ask  what  can  be  the  reason  of 
my  valuing  at  so  high  a  rate  a  trifling  mark  of 
honour  on  the  part  of  the  senate.  I  will  deal  with 
you  frankly  on  this  point,  as  becomes  that  community 
of  feelings  and  of  duties  which  exists  between  us,  our 
own  sincerq  friendship,  and  the  good  understanding 


330 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


mutually  cultivated  by  our  fathers.     If  there  ever 
yet  existed  a  person  unambitious  by  nature,  and  still 
more  so  by  the  exercise  of  reason  and  philosophy,  of  the 
empty  praises  of  the  multitude,  I  am  that  individual. 
Of  this  my  consulate  is  a  witness,  during  which,  as 
indeed   during   all   the   rest   of  my   life,    although 
I  followed,  as   I  confess,  that  path   which  leads  to 
true  renown,  I  yet  considered  that  glory,  abstractedly 
and  in  itself,  ought  never  to  be  an  object  of  pursuit. 
Thus  influenced,  I  refused  the  government  of  a  valu- 
able province,  and  gave  up  the  certain  prospect  of  a 
triumph,  nor  did  I  make  any  efforts  to  obtain  the 
office  of  augur,   although,  as   I  believe  you  are  of 
opinion,  I  might  at  that  time  have  easily  obtained  it. 
After  the  injustice,  however,  which  followed, — in- 
justice which  you  are  accustomed  to  designate  as  a 
calamity  to  the  state,  and  which  I  consider  to  have 
been  no  misfortune  to  myself,  but  rather  a  subject 
for  boasting — I  was  desirous  that    the  favourable 
opinion  entertained  with  respect  to  me  by  the  senate 
and  people  of  Rome,   should  be  manifested  by  the 
most  creditable  and  substantial  marks  of  their  esteem. 
I,  therefore,   resolved   to  stand   for  the   augurship 
which  I  had  previously  neglected,  and  am,  more- 
over, at  the  present  moment,  ambitious  of  the  dis- 
tinction by  which  the  senate  are  accustomed  to  reward 
military  conduct,  of  which  I  was  once  equally  re- 
gardless.    That   you  would  second  my  wishes   on 
this  point,  therefore,  to  which  I  am  prompted  by  a 
strong  desire  of  healing  the  wound  inflicted  by  the 
injustice  I  have  just  alluded  to,  is  now  my  earnest 
request ;  for  having  promised  a  short  time  since  not 
to  prefer  any  entreaty  to  you  upon  the  subject,  I  am 
now   obliged   to   revoke   my  resolution.     Yet,  my 
appeal  is  founded  on  the  supposition  that  these  trifling 
exploits  of  mine  will  not  appear  worthless,  but  much 
surpassing  those  for  which  many  other  persons  have 
obtained  similar  honours  from  the  senate, 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


331 


"  I  think  I  have  observed  a  disposition  in  you,  (and 
you  know  with  what  attention  I  am  accustomed  to 
listen  to  your  opinions,)  to  consider  not  so  much  the 
military  talents  and  operations  of  generals,  as  their 
moral  qualities  and  the  general  tenor  of  their  lives, 
whenever  the  question  of  bestowing  or  withholding 
public  honours  has  been  the  subject  of  debate.  Now, 
if  you  consider  my  conduct,  you  will  find  that,  with  a 
very  weak  army  to  counteract  the  apprehension  of  a 
most  formidable  war,  I  have  made  justice  and  absti- 
nence from  oppression  the  most  eflicient  safeguards  of 
my  authority.  Relying  upon  these  aids,  I  have 
effected  that  which  no  force  consisting  of  armed 
legions  could  have  enabled  me  to  accomplish ;  creating 
in  our  allies  the  most  friendly  dispositions  towards  us, 
instead  of  marked  aversion ;  and  bringing  back  the 
minds  of  those  who  were  wavering,  under  the  expec- 
tation of  a  speedy  change,  to  their  former  state  of 
affection  towards  the  established  government*." 

The  application  to  Cato  was  accompanied  by 
letters  to  the  consuls  ^milius  Paulust  and  Claudius 
MarcellusJ,  in  which  the  same  request  presented  to 
Cato,  with  so  much  elaborate  flattery,  was  preferred 
with  little  less  earnestness.  The  vanity  of  the  writer 
was  gratified  by  the  public  supplication  he  had  en- 
deavoured to  obtain  for  his  successes,  but  it  does  not 
appear  that  Cato  was  induced  by  his  entreaties  or 
compliments  to  interest  himself  very  earnestly  in  his 
favour.  It  is  at  least  certain  that  he  did  not  at  first 
vote  for  the  supplication,  although  he  afterwards 
caused  his  name  to  be  inserted  in  the  decree  by  which 
it  w^as  enjoined.  His  reply  to  the  appeal  of  Cicero  is 
yet  extant,  and  deserves  record  as  containing  the  only 
authenticated  words  which  the  philosopher  of  Utica 
has  bequeathed  to  the  notice  of  after  ages. 

*  Ad  Diveraos,  xv.  4.  t  Ad  Diversos,  xv.  13. 

^  Ad  Diversos,  xv.  10. 


332 


X 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE  .OF   CICERO. 


333 


"  MARCUS  CATO  TO    MARCUS  TULLIUS   CICERO, 

IMPERATOR*. 

"  That  feeling  which  my  regard  for  the  state,  and 
my  personal  friendship  for   yourself,  render  it  in- 
cumbent upon  me  to  entertain  on  the  present  occasion, 
I  most  willingly  indulge,  and  rejoice  to  find  that  you 
have  displayed  in  a  military  capacity  abroad,  and 
with  undiminished  energy,  the  same  virtue,  integrity, 
and  industry,  which,  in  affairs  of  the  greatest  mo- 
ment, you  were  accustomed  to  exhibit  in  your  civil 
offices  at  home.     All  that  I  could  do,  therefore,  in 
consistency  with  my  own  judgment  when  called  upon 
to   deliver  my  opinion,    I   have    done,  by  making 
honourable  mention  of  your  able  defence  of  your 
province  by  your   disinterested   conduct  and   wise 
regulations,  of  your  preservation  of  Ariobarzanes  as 
well  as  his  kingdom,  and  your  re-establishment  of 
the  affections  of  our  allies  in  favour  of  our  empire. 
I  rejoice  that  the  supplication  has  been  decreed,— if, 
indeed,  you  on  your  part  are  willing  that  we  should 
acknowledge  our  obligations  to  the  gods,  for  successes 
in  which  Chance  has  had  no  share,  but  in  which  the 
interests  of  the  republic  have  been  advanced  entirely 
by  your  prudence  and  forbearance.     If,  however,  you 
imagine  that  a  supplication  is  a  necessary  preliminary 
to  a  triumph,  and  on  that  account  alone  are  willing 
that  Fortune  should  receive  our  praises  rather  than 
yourself,  I  would  remind  you  that  one  distinction 
does  not  necessarily  involve  the  other,  and  that  it  is 
far  more  honourable  for  the  senate  to  judge  that  a 
province  has  been  preserved  by  the  gentleness  and 
blameless  conduct  of  a  general,  than  by  an  armed 
force,  or  by  the  favour  of  the  gods  ;  and  this  I  declared 
openly,  when   called  to  deliver   my  sentiments.     I 
have  written  to  you  at  this  length,  contrary  to  my 
usual  custom,  to  induce  you  to  believe,  (as  it  is  my 

•  Ad  Diversos,  xv,  5. 


1 


anxious  desire  you  should,)  that  although  I  proposed 
and  desired  what  appeared  most  consistent  with  your 
true  honour  and  dignity,  I  am  rejoiced  that  what 
was  most  in  accordance  with  your  wishes  has  been 
determined  upon.  Farewell !  Continue  your  regards 
towards  me,  and  still  maintain  towards  our  allies  and 
our  republic  the  impartial  justice  and  diligence  which 
you  have  begun  to  exhibit." 

With  the  retreat  of  the  Parthians  from  Antioch, 
the  more  serious  apprehensions  of  danger  from  these 
terrible  invaders  were  in  a  great  measure  dissipated ; 
yet  continued  rumours  of  their  again  crossing  the 
Euphrates  did  not  allow  Cilicia  to  depart  from  the 
military  attitude  it  had  assumed,  during  the  whole 
of  the  ensuing  summer.     The  cessation  of  the  neces- 
sity for  prompt  and  vigorous  action  in  the  field  was 
not  accompanied  by  a  freedom,  on  the  part  of  Cicero, 
from  numerous  minor  anxieties  and  difficulties  which 
required  a  dextrous  and  delicate  management.     He 
was  not  on  good  terms  with  his  predecessor,  Appius, 
who,  as  it  has  been  already  seen,  instead  of  advancing 
to  meet  him  and  formally  resigning  the  government 
into  his  hands,  had  continued  to  exercise  a  separate 
authority  in  a  remote  part  of  the  province,  where  it 
was  impossible  for  Cicero  to  reach  him  within  the 
thirty  days  prescribed  by  the  Cornelian  law,  as  the 
longest  interval  between  the  arrival  of  a  proconsul  in 
his  government,  and  the  departure  of  the  magistrate 
whom    he   had   succeeded.      With    some   difficulty 
Appius  was  made  conscious  of  the  little  reason  which 
existed  for  his  unfriendly  conduct;  but  his  reconcilia- 
tion with  Cicero  had  scarcely  been  effected,  when  a 
fresh  cause  of  distrust  arose  on  account  of  an  im- 
peachment brought  against  him  as  soon  as  he  returned 
to  Rome,   by  Dolabella,   who  was  on  the  point  of 
marrying  Tullia,   the  daughter  of  Cicero,  after  her 
separation,  probably  by  a  divorce,  from  her  second 


334 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO, 


husband  Crassipes.     Cicero  appears  on  the  face  of 
some  of  his  epistles  to  have  been  much  concerned  at 
these  proceedings,  and  to  have  taken   much  more 
pains  to  avert   the  suspicions  of  the  accused  from 
faUing  upon  himself  as  an  agent  in  the  prosecution, 
than  Appius  deserved.     He  has  done  so,  indeed,  at 
no  small  expense  to  his  own  reputation  for  sincerity, 
since,   although  in  his  correspondence  with  Atticus 
he  depicts  the  oppressions  of  the  late  governor  of 
Cilicia  as  almost  beyond  belief,  he  possessed  dissi- 
mulation enough  to  intimate  to  the  same  individual, 
in  a  letter  upon  the  subject  of  his  impeachment*, 
the  highest  respect  and  admiration  for  his  character, 
and  astonishment  at  the  accusations  of  Dolabella, 
whom  he  designates  a  rash   and  ungrateful  young 
man.     In  another  epistle,  acknowledging  the  receipt 
of  the  intelligence  of  the  acquittal  of  Appius  on  the 
charge  of  mal-administration  in  his  government,  his 
aiFected  joy    is   still   more    vehemently   expressed: 
"  While  I  was  encamped,"  he  writest,  "  on  the  banks 
of  the  Pyramus,  I  received  two   letters  from  you, 
which  were  forwarded  to  me  by  Quintus  Servilius 
Tarso,  one  of  them  dated  on  the  nones  of  April,  the 
other  undated,  and  as  it  appeared  to  me  more  recently 
written.     I  will,  therefore,  first  answer  the  former, 
in  which  you  inform  me  of  your  acquittal  imder  the 
accusation  of  mismanagement  of  your  authority  in 
your  late  province.  Of  this  event  I  had  already  been 
made  acquainted  by  various  means  of  intelligence  ; 
since  the  verdict  was  the  universal  topic  of  conversa- 
tion, not  from  any  expectation  that  it  would  have  been 
otherwise,  but  because  nothing  conducing  to  the  fur- 
ther glory  of  men  already  illustrious,  is  ever  suffered  to 
remain  in  obscurity  ;  yet  your  letter  much  increased 
my  delight,  not  only  because  it  was  more  exact  and 

♦  Ad  Diversos,  iii.  10. — Cum  est  ad  nos  allatum  de  tcmeritate 
eonim,  qui  tibi  negotium  facesscrent,  &c.      f  Ad  Diversos,  iii.  II. 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


335 


copious  in   its  details  than  common  discourse,  but 
because  I  seemed  to  have  a  better  opportunity  for 
offering  my  congratulations  after  a   communication 
under  your  own  hand.     In  imagination,  therefore,  I 
embraced   you,   although    absent,    and,    imprinting 
kisses  upon    your   epistle,    indulged  in   a  feeling  of 
self-satisfaction  and  rejoicing  on  my  own  account ; 
for  the  testimony  of  approval  just  awarded  by  the 
people,  the  senate,  and  the  judges,  to  your  genius, 
industry,  and  virtue,  (although  I  am  perhaps  only 
indulging  my  own  vanity,  by  supposing  that  I  have 
any  share  of  such  qualities,)  seemed  in  some  measure 
to  be  bestowed  upon  myself  also.     Nor  did  I  so  much 
wonder  at  the  glorious  issue  of  your  trial,  as  at  the  de- 
pravity of  those  who  had  appeared  as  your  enemies." 
"  Cicero  himself,"  says  Melmoth,  in  his  notes  upon 
the  epistle  of  which  the  above  extract  is  a  part — and 
it  is  at  all  times  satisfactory  to  turn  to  the  just  and 
impartial  opinions  of  this  able  translator — "  will  fur- 
nish the  most  proper  comment  upon  this  passage. 
For  in  a  letter  to  Atticus,  written  not  many  months 
before  the  present,  he  describes  the  conduct  of  Appius 
in  CiUcia,  in  terms  which  show  that  he  was  far  from 
being  unjustly  arraigned  by  Dolabella.     He  repre- 
sents him  as  having  spread  desolation  through  the 
province  by  fire  and  sword ;  as  haTing  left  nothing 
behind  him  which  he  could  possibly  carry  away ; 
and  as  having  suffered  his  ofiicers  to  commit  all  sorts 
of  violences  which  lust  and  avarice  could  suggest. 
'  And  I  am  going,'  says  he,  '  this  very  morning  t() 
repeal  some  of  his  iniquitous  edicts.*     It  is  pleasant 
to  observe,  upon  some  occasions,  the  different  colours 
in  which  the  same  character  is  painted  by  different 
hands ;  but  one  has  not  so  frequently  the  opportunity 
of  hearmg  the  same  conduct  thus  abused  and  thus  ap- 
plauded by  the  same  man,  and  almost  too  in  the  same 
breath."     Such  censure,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  but 
too  well  supported  by  other  passages  of  the  epistles 


336  •      THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 

of  Cicero ;  and  it  is  no  part  of  the  biographer  to 
reveal  only  the  best  qualities  of  the  subject  of  his 
history.    Yet,  in  the  midst  of  the  most  flagrant  faults 
and  weaknesses  which  distinguished  his  exceedingly 
unequal  character,  there  are  not  wanting  many  bright 
points  to  relieve  the  darker  parts  of  the  picture.    In- 
clined as  he  was  to  almost  servile  flattery,  and  some- 
times tempted  by  the  weakness  of  the  moment  into 
disincrenuousness,  for  which  it  is  not  intended  to  offer 
an  excuse,  there  were  yet  occasions  in  which  he  dis- 
regarded all  considerations  but   the    simple  one  of 
justice ;  and,  having  to  choose  between  the  paths  of 
interest  and  integrity,  promptly  and  unhesitatingly 
made  choice  of  the  latter.     A  remarkable  instance 
of  this  was  observable  in  his  conduct  with  respect  to 
the  public  debts  of  the  people  of  Cyprus.     This  once 
flourishing  and  populous  island  was  not  slow  in  ex- 
periencing the  effects  of  its  annexation  to  the  terri- 
tories of  the  republic,  in  the  usual  forms  of  misery 
which  generally  followed  fast  on  the  track  of  Roman 
conquest.     Under  the  pretence  of  a  composition  for 
the  ordinary  obligation   to  furnish  winter-quarters 
for   the   legions*,  and  various   other   pretexts,  the 
inhabitants  were  so  loaded  with  imposts  as  to  be 
compelled  to  borrow  money   from    the   usurers   at 
Rome,  at  an  exorbitant  interest.     They  were,  more- 
over,   during   the  administration  of   Appius,    sub- 
jected to  the  lawless  violence  of  a  strong  body  of 
horse,    headed    by    Marcus    Scaptius    and    Publius 
Matinius,  who  levied  contributions  at  their  pleasure  ; 
and,  on  one  occasion,  carried  their  atrocious  injustice 
so  far  as  to  keep  in  close  confinement  the  senate  of 
Salamis,  who  had  resisted  some  of  their  exactions, 
until  five  among  their  number  had  perished  with 
hunger f.     Cicero  had  no  sooner  entered  his  province 

•  The  sum  exacted  from  tlie  Roman  proconsuls  from  Cyprus, 
under  this  head  alone,  amounted  to  200  talents,  or  about  40,000/., 
yearly,  f  Ad  Attic,  vi.  1,  2. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  937 

than  he  was  met  by  a  deputation  of  the  Salaminians, 
complaining  of  this  outrage,  as  well  as  of  the  serious 
debt  they  had  already  incurred,  amounting  to  about 
twenty-three  thousand  pounds.  Scaptius  and  his 
cavalry  were,  by  his  order,  immediately  withdrawn, 
while  the  enormous  interest  of  forty-eight  per  cent.*, 
charged  upon  their  bonds  by  the  Roman  creditors, 
was  reduced  to  twelve,  by  an  edict  enjoining  the 
same  rate  of  usance  to  be  observed  throughout  the 
province.  In  making  this  regulation  Cicero  had  to 
encounter  the  remonstrances  of  the  famous  Marcus 
Brutus,  who,  although  the  title  was  ostensibly  held 
by  Scaptius  and  Matinius,  was  the  real  creditor  of  the 
Salaminians.  His  representations  upon  the  subject 
were  backed  by  those  of.  Atticus,  who  ventured,  at 
the  same  time,  to  intercede  in  behalf  of  Scaptius ; 
requesting  that,  at  least,  some  part  of  the  force  he 
had  formerly  commanded  might  be  restored  to  him, 

*  The  legal  interest  allowed  to  be  exacted  at  Rome  was  fixed, 
by  the  earliest  regulations  upon  the  subject,  at  one  per  cent.,  and 
anv  usurer  conyicted  of  demanding  more  was  liable  to  make  four- 
fold restitution.     Tacitus  asserts  that  this  was  expressly  provided 
by  the  laws  of  the  Twelve  Tables  ;— "  Vetus  urbi  fonebre  malum 
et  scditionum  discordiarumque  uberrima  causa  :  eoque  cohibebatur 
antiquis  quoquc  et  minus  corruptis  moribus.     Nam  primo  duode- 
cim  tabulis  sanctum,  '  Ne  quis  unciario  foenere  ampliusexerceret.'  " 
— Annal.   vi.  16.      Montesquieu  {Esprit  des  Loix,  xxii.  22.) 
endeavours  to  prove  that  Tacitus  has  confounded  with  the  Decem- 
viral  code  the  law  of  the  tribunes  Duilius  and  Mcenius,  a.o.c.  398. 
Kiebuhr,  however,  has  thrown  the  weight  of  his  authority,  which 
will,  perhaps,  be  considered  decisive,  on  the  side  of  Tacitus.     la 
the  consulate  of  Titus  Manlius  Torquatus  and  Caius   Plautius, 
A.u.c.  408,  the  rate  of  interest  was  reducecl  to  one-half  per  cent., 
and  by  a  subsequent  statute,  brought  forward  by  the  tribune  Genu- 
ciiis,  A.ux.  413,  abolished  altogether.     This  law,  however,  as  well 
as  those  which  had  preceded  it  to  prevent  usurious  interest,  althoygh 
hot  formally  repealed,  soon  fell  into  the  condition  of  a  dead  letter. 
(Brotier,  Excurs.  in  Tacit.  Annal.  vi.  16.)     The  amount  of   inte- 
rest which  could  be  legally  demanded  in  the  provinces  seems  to 
have  yaried  with  the  judgment  of  the  respective  goyeriiors. 


338  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERa. 

although  it  might  he  no  more  than  fifty  horse.  To 
both,  however,  Gicero  returned  an  unqualified  refusal, 
and  continued  to  persist  in  it,  although  his  friendship 
with  Brutus  was  in  danger  of  being  brought  to  an 
end  by  his  firmness*.  The  readiness  he  had  shown 
in  listening  to  the  petition  of  the  people  of  Cyprus, 
was  no  solitary  instance  of  leniency.  "  I  wish,"  he 
exclaims  to  Atticus,  with  an  excusable  feeling  of 
self-complacency,  "  you  had  been  present  at  the 
courts  held  here  for  settling  the  affairs  of  the  several 
dioceses,  with  the  exception^of  those  of  Cilicia,  from 
the  ides  of  February  to  the  calends  of  May;  so 
numerous  were  the  cities  wholly  freed  from  the  bur- 
den of  debt,  so  many  those  to  whom  it  was  greatly 

*  Several  letters  eeem  to  have  •passed  between  Cicero  and  Bru- 
tus on  the  question  of  the  public  debt  of  the  city  of  Salamis,  until 
the  latter,  offended  by  the  inflexibility  of  his  friend,  angiily  dropped 
the  correspondence  with  reference  to  his  unjust  claims.  '*  Brutus," 
says  Cicero,  (Ad  Attic,  vi.  2.),  "  has  given  no  reply  at  all ;  this, 
however,  you  are  not  to  divulge  ;  nor  has  he  adverted  to  it  in  his 
late  letter  respecting  Appius,  wliich  has  the  appearance  of  reserve 
and  arrogance.  This  puts  me  in  mind  of  what  you  often  used  to 
repeat,  *  Gavins  did  not  extend  to  himself  the  contempt  and  hatred 
which  he  professed  to  cherish  towards  haughty  tyrants,'  But  this 
manner  of  Brfltus  raises  my  mirth  rather  than  my  indignation, 
though,  to  say  the  truth,  he  is  too  regardless  what  he  writes,  and  to 
whom  he  writes." — Melmoth.  Thegenei-al  reader  may  feel  some 
surprise  at  finding  the  part  of  a  usurer,  demanding  nearly  fifty  per 
cent,  for  his  money,  enacted  by  one  who  was  afterwards  the  leading 
patriot  of  his  age.  Nor  does  it  coincide  very  exactly  with  the  sen- 
timent expressed  in  the  beautiful  words  ascribed  to  him  by  Shak- 
speare  t — 

"  For  I  can  raise  no  money  by  vile  means  : 
By  heaven  !   ^had  rather  coin  my  heart, 
And  drop  my  bluod  for  drachmas,  than  to  wring 
From  the  hard  hands  of  peasants  their  vile  trash 
By  any  indirection." — Julius  CiESAR,  Acl  iv.,  Scene  3. 

There  is,  however,  scarcely  a  character  of  that  period  whose  re- 
putation is  not  somewhat  the  worse  for  being  viewed  through  the 
medium  of  Cicero's  letters.  Both  Brutus  and  Pompey  had  also 
considerable  claims  upon  Cappadocia,  .lud  its  monarch  ArioburzancF, 
who  was  almost  ruined  by  their  extortions. 


THE    LIFE  OF   CICERO. 


339 


I 


alleviated.  All  of  them  being  permitted  to  appeal  to 
their  own  laws  and  precedents,  and  being  thus,  in 
fact,  allowed  the  liberty  of  self-government,  appeared 
awakened  to  a  new  life.  The  method  I  adopted  to 
discharge,  or,  at  any  rate,  to  diminish,  their  debts 
was  twofold.  In  the  first  place,  I  took  care  4;hat 
my  government  should  never  be  a  source  of  expense 
to  any  one  among  them,  no,  not  by  so  much  as  the 
smallest  coin ;  and,  in  making  this  assertion,  I  indulge 
in  no  hyperbolical  expression.  In  the  next  place, 
having  ascertained  that  peculations,  on  the  part  of 
their  own  magistrates,  had  been  carried  on  to  an  as- 
tonishing extent,  I  summoned  before  me  all  who  had 
been  in  oflice  for  the  last  ten  years,  and  obtained 
from  them  a  free  confession  of  the  fact.  They  were 
consequently  obliged,  in  order  to  avoid  public  ex- 
posure, to  return  the  sums  they  had  severally  em- 
bezzled, and  the  people,  who  at  the  time  seemed 
wholly  unable  to  discharge  the  debts  of  the  last  lus- 
trum, were  not  only  able  to  liquidate  these  on  the 
spot,  but  also  the  deficiencies  of  the  term  preceding*." 
From  the  same  letter  it  appears,  that  the  urbanity 
for  which  he  was  remarkable  among  his  fellow-citi- 
zens at  Rome  was  exhibited  unaltered  towards  his 
provincial  dependants,  and  that  the  habits  of  industry, 
enforced  upon  him  by  the  former  necessity  of  fulfill- 
ing a  multiplicity  of  public  engagements,  remained 
unimpaired  amidst  the  temptations  to  indulgence 
held  out  by  his  distant  appointment.  "  My  au- 
diences," he  continues,  "  are  by  no  ineans  such  as  are 
usually  given  by  the  governors  of  our  provinces ; 
nor  does  the  way  of  access  to  me  lie  through  my  bed- 
chamber. Before  the  dawn  of  day  I  am  usually 
walking  in  my  house,  as  I  used  to  do  when  a  candi- 
date for  public  honours.  This  procures  me  extensive 
popularity,  and  requires  no  exertion  on  my  part, 
*  Ad  Attic,  vi.  2,  written  from  Laodicea. 

z  2 


340 


THE   LIFE    OP   CrCEnO. 


since  I  have  long  been  inured  to  it  by  the  hard  ser- 
vice of  former  times*."  This  representation  has  been 
fiilly  corroborated  by  Phitarch,  who  has  added  other 
particulars  of  the  gentle  and  disinterested  administra- 
tion of  Cicero,  of  which  he  himself  has  made  no  men- 
tion^ and,  in  quitting  the  consideration  of  his  conduct 
as  governor  of  a  province,  a  more  favourable ,  con- 
clusion of  any  remarks  upon  the  subject  could 
hardly  be  found,  than  the  simple  words  in  which 
that  historian  enumerates  its  principal  features: — 
"  Cicero,"  he  relates,  "  finding  the  Cilicians  elated  on 
the  miscarriage  of  the  Romans  in  Parthia  and  the 
commotions  in  Syria,  brought  them  to  order  by  the 
gentleness  of  his  government.  He  refused  the  pre- 
sents which  the  neighbouring  princes  offered  him ; 
he  excused  the  province  from  finding  him  a  public 
table,  and  daily  entertained  at  his  own  charge  per- 
sons of  honour  and  learning,  not  with  magnificence 
indeed,  but  with  elegance  and  propriety.  He  had 
no  porter  at  his  gate,  nor  did  any  man  ever  find  him 
in  bed ;  for  he  rose  early  in  the  morning,  and  kindly 
received  those  who  came  to  pay  their  court  to  him 
either  standing  or  walking  before  his  door.  We  are 
told  that  he  never  caused  any  man  to  be  beaten  with 
rods,  or  to  have  his  garments  rent ;  never  gave  op- 
probrious language  in  his  anger,  nor  added  insult  to 
punishment.  He  recovered  the  public  money,  which 
had  been  embezzled,  and  enriched  the  cities  with  it. 
At  the  same  time,  he  was  satisfied  if  those  who  had 

*  The  early  habits  of  the  Romans  generally  are  well  known. 
Their  levees  were  often  held  before  day- break,  and  several  letters 
of  Cicero  appear  to  liave  been  written  by  the  light  afforded  by  his 
candelabrum  while  waiting  for  the  appearance  of  dawn,  and,  with 
it,  the  influx  of  his  retainers.  "  I  would  have  scribbled  more,"  he 
writes  on  one  occasion  to  Atticus,  •*  but  the  day  is  breaking,  the 
crowd  breaks  in,  and  Philogenes  (his  messenger)  is  in  haste." 
See  also  on  this  point  the  well-known  passages,  Hor.  Sat,  i,  1,  and 
Juvenal.  Sat.  v.  20. 


I 


4 

i 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO,  341. 

been  guilty  of  such  frauds  made  restitution,  and  fixed 
no  mark  of  infamy  upon  them*." 

During  the  summer  months,  which  still  remained 
to  be  spent  before  he  could  relinquish  his  appoint- 
ment, the  constant  expectation  of  the  approach  of 
the  Parthians  compelled  him  to  be  frequently  en- 
camped in  the  open  field.     The  severe  check,  how- 
ever,   which   these   redoubted   invaders   had   lately 
received  in  the  neighbouring  province  of  Syria,  still 
confined  them  to  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Euphrates, 
and  the  military  career  of  Cicero  was  not  destined  to 
afford  him  an  opportunity  of  opposing  his  legionaries 
to  the  iron  sleet  of  the  squadrons  of  Orodes.     The 
arms  of  his  troops  were,  therefore,  only  exercised 
against  the  beasts  of  prey  by  which  the  country  was 
infested  i  and  the  zeal  with  which  they  entered  mto 
the   amusement  of  the  chase,  is  expressed  in  one 
of  his  epistles  to  his  friend  Marcus  Coelius,  curule 
sedile,   in   answer  to   an   application  for   as   many 
wild  beasts  as  could  be  procured,  to  adorn  the  shows 
on  the  point  of  being  exhibited  at  Rome.     "  I  <io 
not,"  he  says,  "  forget  the  panthers  you  desired,  and 
have  given  orders  to  the  persons  usually  employed 
in  hunting  them  :  but  these  animals  are  exceedingly 
scarce  with  us.     They  take  it  so  unkind,  you  must 
know,  that  they  should  be  the  only  creatures  m  my 
province  for  whom  any  snares  should  be  laid,  that 
they  have  withdrawn  themselves  from  my  govern- 
ment, and  are  marched  into  Caria.     However,  the 
huntsmen,   and    particularly   honest    Patiscus,    are 
making  very  diligent  inquiry  after  their  haunts,  and 
all  the  game  they  can  meet  with  shall  certamly  be 
yours ;  but  what  the  number  will  be  is  altogether 
uncertain  t." 

*  Plutarch's  Life  of  Cicero— Laughorne's  translation. 

t  Melmoth.— Coelius  had  at  first  written  to  request  that  Cicero 
Tvould  exert  his  authority  to  engage  the  people  of  his  province  m  the 
chase  of  these  animals.  "1  believe,"  he  writes,  (Ad  Diversos,  viu.  9.) 


342 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO; 


On  the  5th  of  June,  a.  u.  c.  704,  Cicero  had  again 
returned  for  a  short  time  to  Tarsus,  making  the  ne- 
cessary arrangement  for  his  departure  for  Italy.* 
Ever  since  his  arrival  in  Cilicia,  his  efforts  had  been 
continued  without  intermission  to  prevent  tlie  period 
of  hisgovemment  from  being  extended  beyond  a  single 
year.  One  fresh  reason,  in  addition  to  his  original  dis- 
like to  any  foreign  employment,  he  has  himself  can- 
didly stated  to  have  been,  the  consciousness  that  he 
was  unequal  to  the  management  of  the  serious  war  by 
which  the  eastern  provinces  of  Rome  were  at  that  time 
threatened ;  and  the  confession  cannot  be  considered  as 
reflecting  either  upon  his  good  sense  or  courage.  His 
friends  at  Rome  were  not  behind  in  seconding  and  ac- 
complishing his  wishes  on  this  point.     After  having 

"I  Lave  reminded  you  of  the  panthers  in  almost  every  one  of  tiiy  let- 
ters :  and  surely  you  will  not  suffer  Patiscus  to  be  more  liberal  in  this 
article  than  yourself.  He  has  made  Curio  a  present  of  no  less  than 
half  a  score.  Great,  therefore,  will  be  your  disgrace  if  you  should 
not  send  me  a  much  larger  number.  In  the  meantime,  Curio  has 
given  me  fbose  he  received  from  Patiscus,  together  with  as  many 
more  from  Africa.  As  to  yourself,  if  you  can  but  charge  your  me- 
mory with  my  request,  you  may  easily  procure  me  as  many  of  these 
animals  as  you  please.  It  is  only  sending  for  some  of  the  Cy- 
barit^e  to  hunt  them,  and  issuing  forth  your  orders  likewise  into 
Pamphylia,  where  I  am  told  they  are  taken  in  great  abundance. 
I  am  the  more  solicitous  upon  this  article,  as,  I  believe,  my  col- 
league and  I  shall  exhibit  our  games  separately  ;  so  that  the  whole 
preparation  of  them  must  be  upon  myself."  On  this  subject  Cicero 
remarks  to  Atticus  (vi.  1),  "  Coelius  has  sent  his  freedman  to  me 
with  very  pressing  letters,  but  his  request  respecting  the  panthers, 
and  the  contributions  of  the  several  states,  was  scandalous.  I  re- 
plied that  I  was  mortified  by  the  public  inattention  to  my  govern- 
ment, and  that  it  was  not  known  at  Rome  that  I  levied  no  money 
on  the  public  but  to  discharge  the  public  debts.  As  to  his  request 
respecting  the  panthers,  I  observed  that  it  was  not  consistent  with 
my  honour  to  compel  the  Cybarita;  to  hunt  at  the  public  exi>en8c." 
— Melmoth.  It  is  probable  from  this  passage  that  Cicero  made,  as 
Dr.  Middleton  has  conjectured,  the  necessary  advances  from  his  own 
purse,  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  Coelius.  If  so,  the  circumstance 
is  a  fresh  evidence  of  the  integrity  of  his  conduct  in  his  province. 
*  Tarsum  venimus  Nonis  Juniis,  &c. — Ad  Attic,  vi.  14. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


S43 


!• 


followed  the  requisition,  therefore,  of  the  Julian  law, 
by  leaving  two  copies  of  his  public  accounts  to  be 
deposited  in  different  cities — ^performed  a  last  act  of 
generosity  by  remitting  to  the  public  treasury,  al- 
though with  many  expressions  of  disapprobation  on 
the  part  of  his  less  disinterested  followers,  a  sum  not 
falling  short  of  eight  hundred  thousand  pounds  from 
the  allowance  granted  him  for  his  expenses — and  com- 
mitted- the  government  of  his  province  to  the  pro- 
quaestor  Caius  Coelius,  until  the  arrival  of  his  succes- 
sor, he  set  out  on  his  return  home  on  the  thirty-first 
day  of  July,  having  selected  the  earliest  moment  pos- 
sible for  commencing  his  journey.  For  the  benefit 
of  his  son  and  nephew  Quintus,  the  latter  of  whom 
had  lately  assumed  the  manly  robe,  he  had  intended 
to  spend  some  time  at  Rhodes  while  on  his  way  to 
Athens  *.  Yet  his  stay  there  could  not  have  been 
of  any  long  continuance,  since,  on  the  first  of  October, 
he  writes  to  Atticus  of  only  then  being  on  the  point 
of  putting  out  to  sea  from  Ephesus,  with  every  pro- 
spect of  a  tedious  voyage  from  the  prevalence  of  the 
Etesian  winds,  and  the  clumsiness  of  the  Rhodian 
vessels  f ;  and  on  the  6th  of  the  same  month  men- 
tions his  landing  at  the  Peirseus  %,  It  was  on  reach- 
inor  Rhodes  that  he  was  informed  of  the  death 
of  the  celebrated  Hortensius,  to  whom  he  had  long 
been  attached  by  a  community  of  tastes  and  pursuits, 
as  well  as  by  a  long  interchange  of  friendly  offices. 
On  the  fifteenth  of  October  he  was  still  at  Athens,  in 
thehouse  of  his  old  friend  Aristus ;  on  the  second  of 
November  at  Patrae,  and  the  sixth  at  Leucate  on  the 
coast  of  Epirus,  Having  embarked  at  Actium,  he 
was  detained  by  tempestuous  winds  at  Caasiope, 
a  harbour  in  the  island  of  Corcyra,  until  the  twenty- 

*  Quinto  togaro  puram  Liberalibuscogitabam  dare,  sic  enim  maii- 
davit  pater. — Ad  Attic,  vi.  1. 

The  Libcralia,  or  feasts  in  honour  of  Bacchus,  were  celebrated  xt. 
Oal.  April.- (On  the  18th  of  March). 

t  Ad  Attic,  vi.  8.  •     $  Ad  Attic,  vi.  9.    , 


344  •  THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO/ 

third  day  of  the  same  month ;  several  of  the  vessels 
which  had  accompanied  him  being  sunk  in  their 
attempts  to  proceed.  The  weather,  however,  having 
by  that  time  become  more  favourable,  he  was  enabled, 
with  the  assistance  of  a  gentle  breeze  from  the  south, 
to  reach  the  port  of  Hydruns  in  Italy  on  the  twenty- 
fourth,  and  on  the  day  following  was  off  Brundu- 
sium  *.  At  Patrce  he  had  been  compelled  to  leave 
behind  him  his  favourite  and  confidential  freedman 
Gallius  Tiro,  who  had  been  attacked  by  a  dangerous 
indisposition,  and  his  letters  to  this  faithful  retainer 
do  credit  to  the  friendly  and  benevolent  feelings  by 
which  his  disposition  was  strongly  characterised  t. 
No  parent  writing  to  a  son,  or  brother  to  a  brother, 
could  manifest  greater  interest  than  Cicero  in  his 
epistles  to  one  who  had  formerly  been  his  slave,  and 
was  still,  in  every  sense,  his  dependant.  At  Brun- 
dusium  he  was  met,  in  the  forum  of  the  city  imme- 
diately after  landing,  by  his  wife  Terentia,  whom 
he  had  previously  summoned  to  join  liim,  and  in 
her  company  proceeded  by  slow  journeys  to  Rome, 
indulging  himself  with  considerable  hopes  of  a  tri- 
umph, for  the  attainment  of  which  honour  he  had 
made  every  exertion  in  his  power  among  the  leading 
persons  in  the  capital,  and  maintaining  by  means  of 
his  laurelled  fasces  and  numerous  escort  all  the  ex- 
ternal pomp  which  usually  accompanied  the  return 
of  a  victorious  proconsul. 

*  Ad  Di versos,  xvi.  9  ;  Fasti  Hellenici,  iii.  195. — Qui  cupide  pro- 
fecti  sunt  raulti  nanfragia  fecerunt.  Nos  co  die  coenati  solvimus. 
Inde  Austro  Ienis8iin3,  ccelo  sercno,  nocte  ilia  et  die  postero  in 
Italiam  ad  Hydruntem  ludibundi  peivenimus,  &c.  See  Also  Ad 
Attic,  vii.  2. 

-|-  Tiro  had  been  brought  up  from  his  earliest  infancy  in  the 
family  of  Cicero,  whose  name  he  bore,  and,  like  many  of  the 
faTourite  domestics  of  the  Romans,  had  been  carefully  educated. 
He  is  supposed  by  some  commentators  to  have  first  collected  and 
published  the  letters  of  Cicero.  He  also  wrote  a  life  of  his  patron. 
Asconius  spenks  of  him  as  a  man  of  elegant  mind|  and  no  incoQ- 
siderable  proficienc)  in  literatore. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


345 


:  il 


r    M 


CHAPTER  XL 

Procress  of  the  Dissensions  between  the  rival  Factions  at  Rome— 
The  Consul  M.rcellus  delivers  his  Sword  to  Pompey— Inter- 
view between    Pompey    and    Cicero-Cicero   enters    Rome- 
Ultimate  Decree  of  the  Senate-Flight  of  the  Tribunes  Antony 
and   Cassius-C^sar  crosses  the   Rubicon-Pompey  withdraws 
with  the  Senatorian  Party  from  Rome— Alarming  Progress  of  his 
Adversaries-Corfinium  besieged— Cicero  declines  to  join  Pom- 
pey,  who  retreats  to  Brundusium,  and  embarks  for  Greece— Va- 
cillation of  Cicero-His  Interview  with  C«sar- Correspondence 
with  Antony  and  Coelius-Cicero  embarks  for  Dyrrachiura- 
His  arrival  in  the  Camp  of  Pompey-Caesar  lands  at  Pharsalus 
-Is  unsuccessful  in  his  Attack  upon  Pompey  s  Entrenchments, 
and    retreats   into  Thessaly-Buttle    of  Pharsalia-The  Com- 
mand  of  the  Pompeian  Party  offered  to   Cicero   who  declines 
it— Cato  sails  to  Africa— Cicero  returns  to  Brundusium. 
While  Cicero  was  employed  in  watching  over  the 
peace  of  his  province,  and  endeavouring  by  his  just 
and  prudent  regulations  to  administer  relief  to  the 
evils  caused  by  the  misrule  of  his  predecessors,  the 
affairs  of  Italy  had  continued  daily  to  assume  a  more 
gloomy  complexion,  until,  from  the  violence  of  the 
two  parties  by  whose  rivalry  the  state  was  distracted, 
they  had  at  length  assumed  an  aspect  which  pro- 
mised the  immediate  commencement  of  a  civil  war. 
Intimations  of  these  constant  changes  for  the  worse, 
had  been,  from  time  to  time,  conveyed  to  him  by  his 
friends  at  Rome,  but,  until  able  to  ascertain  the  truth 
by  actual  observation,  he  seems  to  have  listened  to 
the  forebodings  of  his  correspondents,  as  he  might 
have  done  to  the  echoes  of  distant  thunders,  so  far 
remote  as  to  justify  a  doubt  as  to  the  real  character 
of  the  sound.  The  long  agitated  proposal  of  the  recal 
of  Caesar  from  his  province,  was  still  the  subject  ot 
contention  on  which  the  aristocratic  and  more  popu  ar 
factions  (the  latter,  now  ably  guided  by  the  cele- 


346 


THE   LIFE  OP   CICERO.r 


brated  Mark  Autony  and  the  younger  Curio,  who, 
after  being  for  some  time  a  furious  opponent  of  Caesar, 
had  been  bribed  into  becoming  his  equally  furious 
partisan)  continued  to  measure  their  strength,  and 
which  they  threatened  ere  long  to  decide  by  their 
swords.  After  various  preliminary  contests,  the 
senate  was  twice  divided  upon  the  question  in  dif- 
ferent forms;  yet,  although  it  was  determined,  chiefly 
by  the  eflbrts  of  the  friends  of  Caesar,  that  the  order 
to  disarm  should  not  be  confined  to  either  of  the 
generals  holding  extraordinary  appointments,  but 
that  Pompey  should  also  be  required  to  dismiss  the 
forces  under  his  command,  the  resolution,  which  met 
with  the  enthusiastic  approbation  of  the  better  dis- 
posed among  the  people,  who  publicly  crowned  Cuiio 
with  flowers  for  the  part  he  had  taken  in  its  support, 
was  suffered  to  remain  unenforced.  It  was  succeeded 
by  an  order  from  the  senate  to  Caesar,  probably  as 
a  trial  of  his  present  disposition,  to  send  back  a 
legion  which  he  had  borrowed  from  Pompey,  and 
to  detach  another  from  his  army  to  be  employed  in 
Syria  against  the  Parthians;  both  which  commands 
were  at  once  complied  with.  Encouraged  by  this 
appearance  of  submission,  the  consul  Marcellus, 
under  the  pretence  of  a  rumour,  no  doubt  excited  by 
his  own  party,  that  Caesar  liad  passed  the  Alps  in  a 
hostile  manner,  endeavoured  to  inflict  a  second  blow 
upon  his  power,  by  making  a  motion  in  an  extraor- 
dinary meeting  of  the  senate,  that  the  several  states 
of  Italy  should  be  ordered  immediately  to  supply  their 
several  contingents  for  the  defence  of  the  republic 
against  his  aggressions.  On  this  occasion,  however, 
Curio  standing  boldly  forward  in  his  defence,  and 
finding  the  majority  of  the  senators  likely  to  side 
with  the  consul,  put  a  stop  to  all  further  proceedings 
by  the  interposition  of  his  authority  as  tribune  of  the 
people.     Marcellus  being  thus  compelled  to  dismiss 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


347 


the  senate  without  effecting  his  purpose,  after  utter- 
ing the  angry  threat,  that  since  his  authority  was 
disregarded,  he  would  transfer  it  into  other  hands, 
proceeded  with  Lentulus,  one  of  the  consuls  elect  for 
the  ensuing  year,  to  the  gardens  where  Pompey 
resided,  and  publicly  presenting  his  sword,  requested 
him  to  employ  it  for  the  preservation  of  Italy,  and 
to  take  upon  himself  the  command  of  the  forces  to  be 
raised  for  its  protection.  The  answer  of  Pompey 
was  little  less  than  a  direct  declaration  of  war  against 
his  rival :  "  I  accept  the  offer,"  he  replied,  "  pro- 
vided no  better  means  can  be  adopted  to  ensure  the 
safety  of  the  commonwealth." 

The  noisy  denunciations  of  his  enemies  at  Rome 
were,  for  some  time,  heard  by  Caesar  in  silence.  He 
was  not,  however,  tlie  less  likely  on  that  account  to 
be  ready  to  answer  their  summons  to  the  field  when- 
ever his  interests  should  require  him  to  appear  there. 
By  the  election  of  his  friend  Antony  and  Quintus 
Cassius,  another  of  his  most  resolute  adherents,  into 
the  college  of  tribunes,  he  was  furnished  with  two 
powerful  instruments  for  directing  any  popular  move- 
ments in  the  city  in  his  favour.  He  himself  was  at 
Ravenna,  according  to  his  usual  custom  of  spending 
the  winter  in  Cisalpine  Gaul;  which  province,  to  avoid 
giving  any  alarm  to  the  senate,  was  ostensibly  fur- 
nished with  but  a  single  veteran  legion,  the  thirteenth. 
But  in  and  about  the  passes  of  the  Alps  were  glit- 
tering the  standards  of  the  twelfth  legion,  posted  in 
readiness  to  march  to  his  support  at  his  earliest  com- 
mand ;  and  behind  that  rocky  barrier  lay  cantoned, 
with  free  communications,  in  a  country  completely 
reduced  by  their  prowess  to  a  state  of  subjection, 
and  furnished  with  every  requisite  for  effective  ser- 
vice, the  veterans  of  seven  severe  campaigns;  avail- 
able either  for  a  prompt  advance  into  Italy,  or  for 
preventing  a  junction  of  the  Italian  forces  of  Pompey 


348 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE   OF  CICERO. 


S49 


348 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


with  the  powerful  army  acting  under  his  lieutenants 
in  Spain.  Thus  circumstanced,  and  fully  able  to 
appreciate  all  the  advantages  of  his  position,  he  was 
contented  with  coolly  watching  from  thence  the 
favourable  opportunity  for  action,  which  he  had  truly 
calculated  the  rashness  of  his  adversaries  would  not 
be  long  in  affording,  and  beyond  professing  an  inten- 
tion of  soon  offerinof  himself  as  consul  for  the  new 
year,  making  no  overt  movement  to  oppose  their 
demonstrations  of  hostility. 

Meanwhile  Cicero,  whose  attention  was,  at  least, 
as  much  excited  by  the  prospect  of  the  gaudy  pageant 
which  he  intended  to  solicit,  as  by  the  portentous 
signs  of  intestine  commotion  around  him,  the  exten- 
sive and  serious  character  of  which  he  seems  to  have 
begun  to  appreciate  during  his  short  stay  in  Greece, 
was  met  by  Pompey  in  his  progress  to  the  capital. 
His  high  standing  in  the  republic,  his  long  acquired 
reputation  and  splendid  abilities,  made  him  an  object 
well  worth  securing  by  either  party,  and  the  leaders 
of  both  were  not  wanting  in  efforts  to  obtain,  if  pos- 
sible, so  illustrious  a  support.  Caesar  had  written 
to  him  while  yet  in  Asia,  congratulating  him  on  his 
exploits,  and  making  severe  comments  upon  the  luke- 
warmness  of  Cato  in  seconding  the  decree  for  a  sup- 
plication in  his  favour,  while  readily  exerting  him- 
self to  procure  one  of  twenty  days'  continuance  iu 
behalf  of  the  proconsul  Bibulus.  He  was  not,  how- 
ever, able  by  this  well-timed  flattery,  to  deprive  the 
ranks  of  his  antagonist  of  a  long  tried  supporter ; 
and  if  Cicero  had  not  previously  made  up  his  mind 
as  to  the  course  incumbent  upon  him  to  pursue,  his 
first  interview  with  his  former  professed  patron 
would,  probably,  have  dotennined  his  wavering  reso- 
lution. "  On  the  fourth  of  December,"  he  writes  to 
Atticus,  "  I  was  in  company  with  Pompey.  Our 
conference  lasted  about  two  hours.     He  appeared 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


S49 


i 


transported  with  joy  at  my  return,  exhorted  me 
strenuously  to  follow  out  my  plan  of  supplicating  for 
a  triumph,  and  requested  that  I  would  declare  my- 
self in  his  favour.     He  advised  me  not  to  take  any 
part  in  the  debates  in  the  senate  until  I  had  accom- 
plished my  object,  lest  I  should  offend  some  of  the 
tribunes  by  the  delivery  of  my  opinions.     He  could 
not,  in  short,  have  been  more  lavish  of  his  friendly 
counsel  than  he  was  on  this  occasion.     In  our  con- 
versation on  public  affairs,  he  spoke  of  a  civil  war  as 
an  event  no  longer  doubtful.    He  said  that  there  was 
no  prospect   of  a   reconciliation,  since  Caesar  was 
wholly  alienated  from  hith  ;  that  he  had  reason  to 
suspect   this   before,   but   was  now  certain   of    it, 
since  Hirtius,  who  had  fomierly  been  on  the  most 
intimate  terms  with  him,  hacf  lately  come  to  Rome 
from  Caesar  without  paying  him  a  visit ;  that  he  had 
arrived  on  the  evening  of  the  6th  of  December,  and 
after  prevailing  upon  Balbus  to  appoint  a  meeting 
with  Scipio  before  daylight  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, respecting  the  general  subject  of  his  mission,  had 
set  off  again   in  the  middle  of  the  night  to  join 
Csesar.     This   he  considered   palpable   evidence   of 
estrangement — I  add  no  more ;  but  that  my  whole 
consolation  is  derived  from  the  hope,  that  the  man  to 
whom  even  his  enemies  are  willing  to  concede  a 
second  consulate,  and  whom   Fortune  has  invested 
with  supreme  power,  will  not  be  so  insane  as  to  peril 
everything  by  his   precipitation.     But   if  he  once 
commences  such  a  career,  I  fear  more  than  I  dare 

commit  to  writing  *." 

A  second  interview  appears  from  Cicero  s  letters  to 
have  taken  place  between  himself  and  Pompey  some 
days  afterwards,  on  which  the  hostile  intentions  of  the 
latter  were  still  more  evidently  revealed.  Of  this 
meetin<r,  he  communicates  the  following  particulars 

*  Ad  Attic,  vii.  4, 


350 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


to  Atticus  *  : — "  Your  conjecture  that  I  should  meet 
with  Pompey  before  I  reached  this  place  has  proved 
correct,  since  he  overtook  me  at  Lavemium  on  the 
27th  of  December.  We  proceeded  together  toFormia?, 
and  conversed  in  private  from  the  eighth  hour  till  the 
evening.  You  ask  if  there  is  any  prospect  of  a  peace : 
so  far  as  I  can  judge  from  Pompey's  full  and  un- 
equivocal expressions,  I  should  say  that  there  exists 
not  even  a  wish  for  it.     For  it  is  his  opinion,  that  if 
Cffisar  should  be  returned  consul,  even  after  dismiss- 
ing his  army,  a  destruction  of  the  constitution  would 
be  inevitably  the  consequence.     He  thinks,  however, 
that    when   he    hears    of  the  preparations  making 
against  him,  he  will  abandon  his  designs  upon  the 
consulate,  and  prefer  retaining  his  province  and  army. 
He  spoke  with  great  contempt  of  any  act  of  rash 
aggression  on  the  part  of  Caesar,  and  expressed  the 
greatest  confidence  in  his  own  resources  and  those  of 
the  republic  ;  and  although  the  horrors  of  a  civil  war 
were  clearly  arrayed  before  my  imagination,  I  was 
yet  in  some  measure  freed  from  anxiety  while  listen- 
ing to  the  prudent  remarks  of  so  brave,  experienced, 
and  influential  a  leader,  on  the  greater  perils  of  an  • 
insincere  peace.     We  had  before  us  the  speech  de- 
livered by  Antony  on  the  23rd  of  December  t,  in 
which  he  attacks  the  whole  life  of  Pompey  from  his 
boyhood, — complains  of  his  unjust  condemnations,  and 
of  the  terror  of  his  military  despotism.  While  perusing 
it,  Pompey  asked,  '  What  do  you  suppose  will  be  the 
conduct  of  this  man,  if  he  once  obtains  the  supreme 
authority  in  the  state,  when  even  his  quaestor,  a  des- 
titute and  powerless  individual,  dares  to  express  him- 
self in  such  terms  as  these?'     In  short,  he  appeared 

*  Ad  Attic,  vii.  8. 

t  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  public  speeches  of  the  Romans, 
at  this  time,  were  often  regularly  reported  by  short-hand  writers. 
Aa  oration  thus  preserved,  was  termed  Oraiio  excepta. 


\ 


I 


THE   LIFE   OF  CICERO.- 


351 


not  only  not  to  desire  a  peace,  but  absolutely  to 
dread  it." 

On  the  4th  day  of  January,  a.  u.  c.  705,  and  at 
the  commencement  of  the  consulate  of  Claudius  Mar- 
cellus*  and  Cornelius  Lentulus,  Cicero  having  set  out 
from  the  Alban  villa  of  Pompey,  entered  the  suburbs 
of  Rome  in  the  full  pomp  of  office,  amidst  a  distin- 
guished escort,  and  welcomed  by  the  most  flattering 
testimonies  of  popular  regard.  His  arrival  in  the 
city,  however,  took  place  at  an  unfortunate  crisis  for 
the  triumphal  honours  which  he  now  intended  to 
set  himself  earnestly  to  solicit,  being  prompted  in  his 
exertions  to  obtain  this  distinction  by  a  similar  ap- 
plication on  the  part  of  Bibulus,  who,  although  he 
had  never  stirred  beyond  the  w^alls  of  Antioch,  while 
the  Parthians  had  continued  to  keep  the  field,  was 
yet,  according  to  established  usage,  provided  with  a 
fair  claim  to  this  token  of  public  approbation  by  the 
successes  obtained,  under  his  auspices,  by  his  lieute- 
nant Caius  Cassius.  ^ 

The  assertion  contained  in  a  letter  to  Tiro  from  his 
patron,  that  he  had  unexpectedly  fallen  into  the 
full  flames  of  a  war  already  ragingt  ,was  unfortunately 
but  too  well  founded.  A  few  days  before  his  arrival, 
and  at  the  very  entrance  of  the  new  consuls  upon 
their  office,  a  letter  from  Caesar  was  laid  before  th<i 
senate  by  Curio,  and  allowed,  after  considerable  oppo- 
sition, to  be  read  in  the  house.  In  this,  which 
Cicero  terms  an  angry  and  menacing  epistlej,  the 
promise  was  reiterated  that  the  writer  would  imme- 

*  Thrceconsulsof  this  name  were  elected,  A.u.c.  703,704,  and  705. 

-j"  Ego  ad  urbem  accessi  prid.  non.  Januarias.  Obviam  mihi  sic 
est  proditum  ut  nihil  potest  esse  ornatius.  Sod  incidi  in  flammam 
civilis  discordia; — vel  potius  belli. — Ad  Diversos,  xvi.  2, 

J  Amicus  nofiter  minaces  ad  senatum  et  acerbas  literas  misit,  et 
crat  adhuc  impudens  qui  exercitum  et  provinciam  invito  senatu 
teneret. — Ibid.  This  is  the  epistle  which  Caisar,  when  speaking  of 
it  himself,  mentions  aa  containing  his  "  lenissima  postulau." 


S5^  THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

diately  comply  with  the  command  of  the  senate  to 
disband  his  army,  provided  Pompey  was  compelled 
to  follow  his  example ;  while  it  was  at  the  same  time 
intimated,  in  no  ambiguous  terms,  that  if  this  means  of 
accommodation  should  be  rejected,  he  would  at  once 
march  into  Italy  and  vindicate  by  force  the  liberties 
of  his  country.  A  long  and  tumultuous  debate  im- 
mediately ensued,  in  which  Lentulus  the  consul  was 
loud  in  his  promises  of  supporting  the  senate  if  they 
should  determined  to  act  with  resolution  in  defence 
of  their  authority ;  and  Metellus  Scipio,  after  assert- 
in  or  that  Pompey  (who  was  present  at  the  time) 
would  not  be  wanting  in  his  duty  to  the  state  if 
seconded  by  his  own  Order,  concluded  by  moving, 
that  a  certain  day  should  be  appointed  before  which, 
if  the  forces  of  Caesar  were  not  disbanded,  he  should 
be  declared  an  enemy  to  the  republic*.  The  division 
on  this  motion  was  summarily  cut  short  by  the 
intercession  of  the  tribunes  Antony  and  Quintus 
Cassius;  andefter  a  renewed  scene  of  violence,  con- 
fusion, invective,  and  uproar,  the  assembly  was 
compelled  to  dissolve  itself  without  adopting  any 
determinate  resolution.  At  a  second  meeting,  how- 
ever, on  the  seventh  of  January,  without  any  regard 
to  the  tribunitial  authority,  the  senate  was  rashly  pre- 
cipitated, by  the  violence  of  the  faction  of  Pompey, 
into  a  scries  of  enactments  which  might  be  considered 
as  so  many  resolutions  of  self-destruction.  It  was 
ordained  that  successors  should  be  immediately  ap- 
pointed to  Caesar  in  his  government;  that  fresh 
forces  should  be  decreed  to  his  rival ;  and,  finally,  as 
if  the  state  had  been  threatened  with  a  danger  which 
rendered  a  temporary  suspension  of  the  laws  its  only 
defence,  that  the  consuls,  praetor,  tribunes,  and  per- 
sons invested  with  proconsular  authority  then  present 
in  the  city,  should  take  immediate  care  that  the 
*  Caesar,  De  Bello  Civ.  i.  5. ;  Dio,  xli. 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO. 


353 


i 


f.1 


republic  received  no  detriment*.  The  instant  this 
decree  was  passed,  Antony  and  Cassius,  probably  not 
without  reason,  considering  themselves  no  longer  safe 
at  Rome,  fled  with  precipitation,  in  the  disguise  of 
slaves  and  with  hired  equipages  t,  towards  the  quar- 
ters of  Caesar ;  who  was  still  at  Ravenna,  expecting, 
as  he  has  himself  expressed  it,  with  a  hope  that 
matters  would  yet  be  amicably  arranged  if  there 
remained  the  least  sense  of  justice  among  men,  an 
answer  to  his  most  moderate  and  gentle  demands. 

Every  quarter  of  Rome  now  resounded  with  the 
bustle  of  military  preparation,  the  young  and  impe- 
tuous patricians,  and  the  ambitious  of  every  age, 
rushing  eagerly  into  a  contest  of  which  they  little 
anticipated  the  wasting  character  or  the  calamitous 
issue.  The  mourning  habit  was  publicly  assumed  by 
the  mass  of  the  people,  and  strangely  contrasted  with 
the  splendid  equipments  of  the  rich  and  noble  adhe- 
rents of  Pompey,  who  were  taking  arms  in  imposing 
numbers.  The  whole  of  Italy  was  divided  into 
districts,  which  were  assigned  to  different  oflScers ; 
Capua  and  the  country  in  its  neighbourhood  being 
appointed  to  Cicerof,  who  had  repeatedly  raised  his 
voice  in  vain  to  ensure  the  continuance  of  peace  upon 
any  terms,  and  to  deprecate  the  folly  and  misery  of  a 
civil  war,  while  emissaries  were  despatched  in  haste  to 
superintend  the  general  levies  carrying  on  in  all  direc- 
tions by  order  of  the  senate.  The  provinces  were  dis- 
posed of  in  a  similar  manner,  without  any  reference  to 
the  people,  and,  in  some  instances,  to  persons  imentitled 
to  such  appointments,  either  by  the  present  or  recent 
session  of  office  § .    Sicily  was,  in  this  manner,  commit- 

*  Cfcsar ,  De  Bello  Civ.  i.  5. ;  Uio,  xli. 

"t*  Plutarch,  in  Ant. 

^  Italise  regiones  descript*  sunt  quam  quisque  partem  tueretur. 
NosCapuamsumsimifs. — Ad  Diversos,  xvi.  11.  written  on  the  12th 
of  January. 

§  Cfiesar,  De  Bello  Civ.  i.  6. 

A  A 


354 


THE  LIFE  OP  crCERO: 


ted  to  Cato,  Africa  to  Tubero,  Syria  to  Scipio,  and  Cis- 
alpine Gaul  to  Lucius  Domitius  Ahenobarbus.  Consi- 
derable sums  were  granted  to  Pompey  from  the  public 
treasury  for  the  expenses  of  the  war,  and  the  spirits  of 
his  followers  elevated  to  a  presumptuous  confidence  by 
his  public  declaration,  that  he  had  already  ten  legions 
fit  for  service — that  he  had  but  to  stamp  his  foot  to  raise 
a  fresh  army— and  that  the  troops  of  Caesar,  already 
on  the  point  of  breaking  out  into  mutiny,  might  be 
expected  to  desert  his  standard  in  great  numbers  as 
soon  as  they  reached  the  Italian  side  of  the  Alps.  For 
the  latter  assertion  there  was  not  the  least  ground, 
and  the  former  contained  a  gross  exaggeration. 
Pompey  had  greatly  miscalculated  the  strength  of  his 
influence,  and  the  extent  of  the  public  feeling  in  his 
favour.  His  resources,  moreover,  instead  of  being 
concentrated  for  the  emergency,  were  yet  scattered 
and  unarranged,  and  long  before  he  could  avail  him- 
self of  the  power  which  he  really  possessed,  a  single 
movement  on  the  part  of  his  enterprising  antagonist 
rendered  his  preparations  almost  useless,  and  made 
the  final  result  of  the  struggle  all  but  a  matter  of 
certainty. 

Caesar  had  received  at  Ravenna  full  intelligence  of 
the  resolutions  passed  against  him  by  the  senate,  and 
possessing,  by  means  of  his  friends  in  the  city,  a 
thorough  acquaintance  with  the  condition  of  the 
faction  of  Pompey  and  the  absence,  at  the  moment, 
of  any  force  capable  of  opposing  his  march  towards 
Rome,  was  also  well  aware  of  the  feeling  of  security 
prevalent  in  the  capital,  founded  on  the  impression 
that  until  his  army  came  up  from  Gaul,  no  movements 
of  a  serious  character  were  to  be  expected.  Having, 
tlierefore,  assembled  his  thirteenth  legion,  laid  before 
them  the  late  resolutions  of  the  senate,  and  ascer- 
tained, by  their  repeated  asseverations  of  their 
determination  to   defend  from   illegal   violence   the 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


355 


1 


^ 


persons  of  the  tribunes  and  of  their  general,  that 
their  assistance  might  be  confidently  relied  upon,  he 
determined,  without  delay,  upon  the  bold  expedient 
of  surprising  Ariminum,  as  the  first  indication  of 
his  intention  of  at  once  assuming  the  oflPensive. 
For  this  purpose  he  ordered  what  he  considered  a 
sufficient  number  of  his  troops,  armed  only  with 
their  swords,  to  proceed  from  Ravenna,  and  esta- 
blish themselves,  without  bloodshed  if  possible,  in  the 
place;  which  appears  to  have  been,  by  a  singular  want 
of  precaution,  as  yet  ungarrisoned.  He  himself,  after 
spending  the  day  at  an  exhibition  of  gladiators,  and 
meeting  a  convivial  party  in  the  evening,  as  if  no 
resolution  of  consequence  had  at  that  time  a  place  in 
his  thoughts,  set  out  at  nightfall  to  join  his  advanced 
guard,  having  previously  given  directions  to  some  of 
his  most  confidential  friends  to  meet  him  on  his  rojid. 
His  journey  was  little  likely  to  be  obstructed  by  the 
arms  of  his  enemies,  but  full  in  his  path  flowed  the 
famous  stream  of  the  Rubicon*;  guarded  by  much 

*  La  politique  n'avoit  point  permis  qu'il  y  eut  des  armies  aupres 
<le  Rome ;  mais  elle  n'avoit  pas  souffert  non  plus  que  I'ltalie  fut 
cntiereraent  d^arnle  des  troupes.  Celafit  qu'on  tint  de  forces  con- 
siderables dans  laGaule  Cisalpine,  c'est-k-dire  dans  le  pays  qui  est 
depuis  le  Rubicon,  petit  fleuve  de  la  Romagne,  jusqu'aux  Alpes. 
Mais  pour  assurer  la  ville  de  Rome  contre  ces  troupes,  on  fit  le 
celebre  senatus  consulted  que  Ton  voit  encore  grave  sur  le 
chemin  de  Rimini  a  Cesene,  par  lequel  on  devouoit  aux  dieux 
infernaux,  et  i'oa  declaroit  sacrilege  et  parricide,  quiconque,  avec 
une  legion,  avec  une  armee,  ou  avec  une  cohorte,  passeroit  le  Ru- 
bicon.—Montesquieu,  Grandeur  et  Decadence  des  RomainSy 
chap.  xi.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  curious  monument 
of  antiquity  alluded  to  has  since  almost,  if  not  entirely,  perished, 
Eustace  (  C/a««ica/  T'oMr.vol.  i.  145,)  says,  '«  About  two  miles  from 
Cesena  flows  a  stream  called  the  Pisatello,  supposed  to  be  the  ancient 
Rubicon.  There  stood  on  the  northern  bank  an  obelisk,  with  the 
decree  of  the  senate  and  Roman  people  inscribed  on  its  pedestal, 
and  two  other  inscriptions  on  its  sides.  The  French  destroyed  this 
obelisk.  The  slabs  that  formed  the  pedestal  lay  half  bnried  in  a 
farmyard,  about  a  hundred  paces  from  the  road,  where  we  dug  them 

aa2 


356  THE   LIIIE   OF   CICERO. 

more  imposing  defences  than  the  array  of  military 
force — the  most  solemn  and  awful  enactments  of  hia 
country — the  reverential  regard  of  past  generations, 
the  majesty  of  the  Roman  constitution— and  every 
claim  which  a  country  possesses  upon  the  forbearance 
of  her  sons.  Whether  on  reaching  this  celebrated 
boundary  of  his  province,  he  paused,  as  has  generally 
been  represented,  to  indulge  those  reflections  which  the 
solemnity  and  stillness  of  the  hour,  the  midnight  aspect 
of  the  consecrated  river,  and  the  consciousness  of  the 
important  character  of  his  daring  resolve,  were  so 
well  calculated  to  inspire,  it  is  not  now  necessary  to 
consider.  It  may,  however,  be  observed,  that  if  he 
has  made  no  mention  of  any  such  mental  conflict  in 
his  own  Commentaries,  few  can  be  at  a  loss  to  supply 
substantial  motives  for  his  silence.  By  day-break, 
on  the  following  morning,  Ariminum  was  in  his 
hands,  and  from  this  town,  after  being  joined  by  the 
tribunes  Mark  Antony  and  Cassius,  and  receiving  a 
private  communication  from  Pompey,  which  seemed 

up  and  placed  them  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree."  The  reader  need 
scarcely  be  informed,  that  the  identity  of  the  Rubicon  with  the 
Pisatello  has  been  warmly  disputed.  Eustace,  following  D'Anvillc, 
thinks  the  stream  in  question  to  have  been  the  Fiumccino,  a  tribu- 
tary to  the  latter,  and  has  brought  several  ingenious  arguments  in 
favour  of  his  opinion  and  against  the  common  supposition,  that 
Caesar  passed  the  Rubicon  by  following  the  ^milian  Way,  and 
crossing  the  bridge  "  ad  Confluenteis."  A  Papal  decree  in  1756 
determined  the  point  in  favour  of  the  Lusa.  The  inscription  once 
legible  upon  the  obelisk,  and  which  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  the 
classical  reader,  is  given  by  Fabricius,  Antiq.  Lib.  iii.  p.  37,  as 

follows  : JV8SV    MANDATVVB 

P  R 

Cos.  Imp.  Trib.  Miles,  tiro,  commilito,  armate  quisquis  es,  mani. 
pularie,  centurio,  turmarie,  legionarie,  hie  sistito,  vexillum  sinito, 
arma  deponito  :  ncc  citra  hunc  amnem  Rubiconem,  signa,  ductum, 
commeatumve  traducito.  Si  quis  hnjusce  jussionis  ergo  adversus 
prsccepta  ierit  feceritve  adjudicatus  esto  hostis  p.  r.  ac  si  contra 
patriam  arma  tulerit,  penatesque  e  Bacris  penetralibus  asportaverit, 
s.  p.  Q.  R. 

Sanctio  plebisciti  Sve  Consul ti. 
Ultra  bos  fines  arma  signa  proferre  liceat  nemiui. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  357 

to  be  introductory  to  an  accommodation,  he  forwarded, 
by  Lucius  Caesar  and  the  praetor  Roscius,  a  letter  to 
the  consuls,  containing  the  terms  on  which  he  was 
still  willing  to  lay  down  his  arms.  These,  if  his 
own  report  of  them  be  correct,  could  not  in  justice 
be  considered  either  partial  or  exorbitant :  since  the 
disbanding  of  the  forces  of  both  parties,  the  cessation 
of  the  present  hostile  preparations,  the  departure  of 
Pompey  for  his  province,  and  the  restoration  of  their 
former  freedom  to  the  popular  assemblies,  were  the 
principal  points  insisted  upon.* 

With  the  first  intelligence  of  the  passage  of  the 
Rubicon,  the  senatorial  party,  as  if  Caesar  had  been 
already  at  the  gates  of  Rome,  began,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  a  panic,  of  which  the  history  of  their  country 
had  aflbrded  few  similar  examples,  to  fly  in  every 
direction  from  the  city ;  apprehending  a  speedy  re- 
newal of  the  barbarities  formerlj'^  exercised  by  Marius 
upon  their  order.  It  then  appeared,  how  little 
reliance  was  to  be  placed  either  upon  the  array 
which  had  been  so  readily  promised  for  the  enforc- 
ing of  the  late  peremptory  resolutions,  or  upon  any 
benefit  from  the  efibrts  of  Pompey — who,  stunned  and 
confounded  by  the  news  of  the  bold  movements  of 
his  adversary,  appears  to  have  lost  all  presence  of 
mind  at  the  moment  when  it  was  necessary  to  act 
with  the  greatest  promptitude.  After  hesitating  for 
a  short  time  between  his  fears  and  his  shame,  he 
now  resolved  to  abandon  the  scheme  of  defending  the 
capital,  and,  with  the  consuls  and  the  principal  no- 
bility, to  retire  to  Capua,  which  he  proposed  to 
make  for  the  present  his  head-quarters  and  centre  of 
operations ;  hoping  that  the  levies  in  the  south  of 
Italy  would,  before  long,  enable  him  to  advance  for 
the  recovery  of  his  lost  ground  with  an  overwhelm- 
ing superiority  of  numbers.  Cicero,  sorely  against 
his  inclination,  was  obliged  by  this  resolution  to  de- 
'  •  De  Bello  Civ.  i.  9. 


358 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERa. 


part  from  Rome,  which  he  quitted  preceded  by  his 
lictors,  and  with  his  fasces  still  entwined  with  laurel, 
before  day-break  on  the  20th  of  January*,  after  an 
interview  with  Pompey,  in  which  the  terror  and 
vacillation  of  that  unfortunate  general  were  suffi- 
ciently conspicuous t.  During  the  stern  tumult  of 
the  debates  which  had  preceded  the  outbreak  of  the 
civil  strife  now  actually  commenced,  his  voice  had 
still  been  heard  in  demand  of  the  triumph  which  he 
considered  due  to  him,  until  he  was  dissuaded  from 
interrupting  the  consideration  of  more  important 
matters  by  the  consul  Lentulus,  who  promised  that, 
if  he  would  suffer  his  claims  to  remain  in  abeyance 
until  the  settlement  of  the  present  commotions,  he 
would  be  himself  the  first  to  propose  the  considera- 
tion of  the  distinction  of  which  he  was  ambitious  to 
the  senate,  and  support  his  pretensions  to  it  with  all 
his  influence  J.  But  with  the  determination  of  the 
party  of  Pompey  to  abandon  Rome  ended  all  hope, 
for  the  present,  of  directing  the  attention  of  the  legisla- 
ture to  the  subject,  and  the  disappointment,  although 
his  whole  mind  might  have  been  expected  to  be  en- 
grossed by  the  great  events  passing  around,  was,  no 
doubt,  acutely  felt. 

The  messengers  charged  with  the  ultimatum  of 
CaBsar  found  the  two  consuls,  together  with  Pompey 
and  the  leading  members  of  the  senate,  at  Theanum 
in  Apulia,  on  the  twenty- fourth  day  of  January.  A 
council  was  immediately  called  to  deliberate  upon  his 
proposal ;  which  it  was  at  length  resolved  to  answer, 
by  a  message  enjoining  him  immediately  to  abandon 

*  Subito  consilium  cepi,  ut  antequam  luceret  exirem  ;  ne  qui 
conspectus  fieret  aut  sermo,  lictoribus  praesertim  laureatis. — (Ad 
Attic,  vii.  10).  The  exact  date  of  this  circumstance  is  ascertained 
from  his  epistle,  Ad  Attic,  ix.  10.  Erat  igitur  in  eA,  quam  x.  Cal. 
Februarii  dederas  hoc  modo,  &c.  Hoc  scribis  post  diem  quartnm 
quam  ab  urbe  discessimus. 

+  Vidi  hominem  xiv.  Cal.  Febr.  plenum  formidinis,  illo  ipso 
die  sensi  quid  ageret,  &c. — Ad  Attic,  ix.  9. 

X  Ad  Di versos,  zvi.  11. 


w 


r^' 


THE   LIFE   OF   eiCERO.  SSO" 

all  the  places  of  which  he  was  in  possession  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  Cisalpine  Gaul,  and,  having  withdrawn 
into  his  province,  to  submit  the-  subject  of  dispute 
to  the  arbitration  of  the  great  council  of  the  state. 
But  the  demand  of  the  discontinuance  of  the  levies 
was  w^holly  evaded,  and  no  fixed  day  for  the  de- 
parture of  Pompey  specified.     Csesar,  therefore,  af- 
fected to  consider  the  reply  of  the  consuls  as  a  mere 
stratagem  to  gain  further  time;  but  it  is  likely  that  he 
had  never  entertained  the  expectation,  or,  perhaps,  the 
wish,  that  the  terms  offered  by  him  would  meet  with 
a  favourable  reception.     It  is  certain,  notwithstand- 
ing his  intimations  to  the  contrary*,  that  he  had  not 
for  a  moment  ceased  to  carry  on  his  offensive  opera- 
tions with  all  diligence :  having  in  the  interval  des- 
patched Mark  Antony,  with  five  cohorts,  to  secure 
Arretium,  Curio  to  effect  the  reduction  of  Iguvium, 
and,  after  gaining  in  person  Pisaurum,  Fanum,  and 
Ancona, proceeding  to  add  Auximum  to  his  conquests, 
by  the  voluntary  surrender  of  its  inhabitants. 

The  news  of  these  several  events,  arriving  at  Rome 
in  quick  succession,  with  the  additional  report  that 
the  advance  of  Caesar's  cavalry  was  close  at  hand, 
cleared  the  city  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  those 
members  of  the  senate  who  had  ventured  to  remam 
behind,  with  the  lingering  hope  of  a  pacific  deter- 
mination of  the  existing  differences.    Lentulus,  who, 
as  well  as  Marcellus,  had  been  recalled  from  Capua 
*  DeBelloCiv.i.  10,11.  It  is  quiteevident  from  these  chapters 
that  Caesar  intended  it  to  be  believed  by  his  readers,  that  he  had 
patiently  waited  at  Arimiuum  for  the  answer  of  the  consuls,  with- 
out advancing  further  southwards.     At  the  same  time,  no  fact  can  be 
belter  established  than  his  reduction  of  most  or  all  of  the  towns  men- 
Uoned  above,  before  his  reception  of  any  reply.     Cicero  (Ad  At- 
tic   vii    18.)  mentions  the  surrender  of  Ancona  as  occurring  some 
davs  before  the  arrival  of  Luc.  Caesar  at  Theanum,  and  even  (Ad 
DiVer808,xvi.  12.)  as  preceding  his  own  departure  from  the  city. 
He  adds:— (Ad  Attic,  vii.  18.)  Caesarem  quidem  L.  Caesare  cum 
mandatis  de  pace  misso,  tamen  aiunt  acerrime  delectum  habere,  loca 
occupare,  vincire  pracsidiiB.     Oh  perditum  latronem !  &c,  .    . 


360  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

on  the  7th  of  February,  to  draw  an  additional  sum 
of  money  from  the  treasury  for  the  benefit  of  Pom- 
pey,  and  afterwards  to  take  his  departure  from  Rome 
with  the  usual  ceremonies  of  a   consul  proceedmg 
on  an  important  military    expedition,   immediately 
withdrew  with  all  haste  in  company  with  his  colleague, 
leaving  the  sacrifices  customary  on  such  occasions  un- 
performed.    Pompey,  at  the  same  time,  retired  fur- 
ther into  Apulia,   where  the  two  legions  received 
from  Csesar  were  stationed ;   disheartened  with  the 
reluctance  shown  by  the  people  of  Campania  to  arm 
m  his  favour,  and,  in  his  despair  of  being  able  to 
maintain   Italy,  designing   to   transfer  the  war,  as 
soon   as  possible,  into  Greece.     It  is  evident  from 
several  letters  written   from    Capua,   Formias,   and 
Cales,  that  Cicero  fully  penetrated  into  his  design ; 
and  that,  although  it  was  perhaps  now  unavoidable, 
he  foresaw  from  the  first  its  ruinous  consequences. 
His  complaints  against  the  weakness  of  Pompey,  and 
the  timid  policy  of  his  adherents,  who,  including 
Cato  himself,  were,  at  this  time,  shrinking  before  a 
crisis  which  they  had  provoked,  are  long,  bitter,  and, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  well  deserved.     The  movements  of 
his  own  party,  after  every  allowance  has  been  made 
for  the  disadvantages  under  which  they  laboured, 
must,  at  least,  be  allowed  to  have  been  characterised 
by  a  singular  degree  of  irresolution  and  confusion, 
while  the  plans  of  their  enemies  were  formed  and 
accomplished  with  a  prudence  and  celerity  which 
ensured  success  to  their   most  difficult  operations. 
Thus,   while   the  consul  Lentulus   was   alternately 
arming  and  disarming  the  school  of  gladiators  be- 
longing to  CaRsar  at  Capua,  and  Pompey  remaining 
motionless,  (although  at  the  head  of  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  faithful  troops  to  materially  harass  his  adver- 
saries,   even    if    he   deemed   it   prudent   to    decline 
meeting  them  in  the  field,)  their  active  enemy  was 
overrunning  the  whole  of  Picenum  without  oppoai^ 


'^^^T 

THE   LIFE  OP   CICERO. 


361 


tion ;  and,  having  driven  Lentulus  Spinther,  at  the 
head  of  ten  cohorts,  from  Asculum,  and  taken  pos- 
session of  the  town,  was  busily  engaged,  after  detach- 
ing Mark  Antony  to  receive  the  surrender  of  Sulmo, 
in  making  preparations  for  the  siege  of  Corfinium. 
Into  this  city  Lucius  Domitius,  the  new  governor  of 
Cisalpine  Gaul,  having  levied  a  force  of  twenty  Mar- 
sic  and  Pelignian  cohorts  for  the  defence  of  his 
province,  had  thrown  himself  with  the  greater  part 
of  his  followers ;  and  having  crowded  the  battlements 
with  his  engines,  and  made  every  arrangement  for  a 
resolute  defence,  despatched  letters  to  Pompey,  ad- 
vising him  to  fall  upon  the  communications  of  the 
besiegers,  and,  while  he  himself  kept  them  in  play 
in  front,  to  hem  them  in  between  his  army  and  the 
walls  of  the  town*.  This  advice,  however  prudent 
it  might  have  been  in  some  respects,  was  not  com- 
plied with ;  since  Pompey,  either  too  obstinately 
resolved  upon  making  Greece  the  theatre  of  the  con- 
test to  waste  his  strength  in  any  other  quarter,  or 
distrusting,  as  he  himself  alleged,  the  inclinations  of 
the  troops  about  him,  instead  of  marching  to  the 
support  of  Domitius,  sent  urgent  and  repeated  in- 
junctions to  himt  to  abandon  Corfinium,  and  to  join 
him  with  all  speed  at  Luceria  w^th  the  forces  under 
his  command.  He,  at  the  same  time,  wrote  to  the 
two  consuls,  who  were  observing  the  motions  of 
Caesar,  to  unite  their  army  with  his  own;  preparatory 
to  a  retreat  towards  Brundusium,  whither  he  had 
already  despatched  fourteen  cohorts  for  the  purpose 
of  securing  the  harbour.  Unfortunately  for  himself, 
only  one  of  these  orders  was  complied  with.  Do- 
mitius, with  singular  rashness,  continued  to  linger 

•  Cffisar,  De  Bello  Civ.  i.  17. 

f  Quaioobrem  etiam  et  etiam  te  rogo  et  hortor,  (id  quod  non 
destiti  Buperioribus  Uteris  a  te  pctere,)  ut  primo  quoque  die  Luce- 
riam  advenias. — Etiam  atque  etiam  te  hortor,  ut  cum  omni  copi& 
ad  me  quam  primum  veniaa. 


362  THE   LIFE  OP   CICERO. 

in  and  about  Corfinium,  until,  as  Pompey  had  more 
than  once  predicted*,  he  was  fairly  blockaded,  and 
precluded  from  all  hope  of  escape  by  the  array  of 
Caesar  and  the  garrisons  drawn  by  Curio  from 
Etruria  and  Umbria,  and  compelled  to  stand  a  siege 
without  the  remotest  prospect  of  relief.  Corfinium 
was  surrendered  sev^n  days  after  the  commencement 
of  active  operations  against  it,  and  a  loss  inflicted 
by  its  fall  which  sank  the  spirits  of  the  Pompeian 
faction  to  the  lowest  degree  of  despondency.  Their 
leader,  on  gaining  information  of  its  reduction,  hastily 
fell  back  from  Luceria  to  Canusium,  and  from  thence 
to  Brundusium,  where  he  lost  no  time  in  embarking 
a  considerable  division  of  his  army,  with  the  consuls  at 
their  head ;  remaining  himself  with  twenty  cohorts 
to  defend  the  town,  until  the  return  of  his  vessels 
from  the  opposite  coast,  when  it  was  his  intention  to 
follow,  with  the  rest  of  his  forces,  his  first  detachment 
into  Epirus.  Caesar,  however, — whom  Cicero  terms 
upon  the  occasion  a  prodigy  of  vigilance  and  activityt, 
— in  the  meantime  advancing  with  incredible  celerity 
from  Corfinium  towards  Apulia,  through  the  districts 
of  the  Ferentani  and  the  Larinates,  with  six  legions, 
was  not  long  in  appearing  before  the  place  ;  and,  after 
the  failure  of  a  renewed  attempt  to  bring  about  a 
peaceable  negotiation,  commenced,  for  the  purpose  of 

•  Quod  veritus  sum  factum  est  ut  Domitius  implicaretur. 
Quod  putavi  et  pi-semonui  fit  ut  nee  in  prsesentia  comroittere  tecum 
prselium  velit,  et  omnibus  copiis  conductis  implicet. — See  the  letters 
of  Pompey  to  Domitius,  and  to  Marcellus,  and  Lentulus,  contained 
in  Ad  Attic,  viii.  12,  which,  like  many  others  of  the  same  period, 
may  be  considered  as  models  of  military  despatches,  and  are  cer- 
tainly unsurpassed,  if  indeed  equalled,  by  any  similar  productions 
of  later  date. 

f  The  expedition  by  which  Caesar's  movements  were  at  this 
characterised,  seems  to  have  produced  a  general  feeling  of  amaie- 
roent,  which  is  amusingly  expressed  by  the  earnest  language  of 
Cicero.  *'  Cum  hsec  scribebam  v.  Cal.  Pompeius  jam  Brundisium 
yenisse  poterat.  Sed  hoc  xfpas  honibili  vigilantly,  celeritate,  dili- 
gent!^ est.".— Ad  Attic,  viii.  11. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERa.  363 

blocking  up  the  harbour,  the  construction  of  the  enor- 
mous floating  fortresses  which  he  has  described  at 
length  in  his  Commentaries.     Against  these  Pompey 
was  compelled  to  prepare  additional  means  of  protec- 
tioninthe  shape  of  his  largest  transports,  provided  with 
towers  and  huge  stages  for  the  reception  of  the  pon- 
derous engines  which  supplied  the  place  of  artillery 
in  the  armies  of  antiquity ;  and  for  some  days  an  un- 
interrupted storm  of  missiles  was  poured  both  from 
the  sea  and  land  defences  of  the  town,  and  answered 
with  equal  fierceness  by  the  archers  and  slingers,  as 
well  as  the  more  powerful  instruments  of  offence,  of 
the  assailants.     This  continued  until  the  return  of 
the  fleet  from  the  opposite   coast,  when   Pompey, 
having  ordered  his  troops  to  embark  with  as  much 
secrecy  as  possible,  intersected,  while  they  were  get- 
ting on  board,  the  several  streets  of  Brundusium  with 
deep  trenches,  which  were  planted  with  sharp  stakes 
and  covered  with  hurdles  and  loose   earth.      The 
principal  ways  leading  to  the  harbour  he  further 
fortified  with  strongpointed  beams,  and  placing  a  num- 
ber of  his  light  troops  upon  the  ramparts  to  impose 
upon  the  enemy  till  the  last  moment,  repaired,  after 
seeing  the  whole  squadron  ready  to  weigh  anchor, 
on  board  his  own  galley,  and  stood  out  to  sea  shortly 
after  sunset*.     The  archers  whom  he  had  left  behmd 
to  man  the  walls,  then  leaving  their  posts,  rushed 
hastily  towards  the  beach,  where  they  were  received 
into  the  boats  and  vessels  stationed  for  their  reception ; 
and  the  town  being  thus  deserted,  the  soldiers  of 
Csesar,  informed  by  signals  on  the  part  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  what  had  happened,  in  a  short  time  after- 
wards planting  their    scaling  ladders   against   the 
walls,  entered  the  place  from  several  quarters  ;  being 
enabled,  by  means  of  the  same  friendly  intimations 

♦  On  the  15th  of  March.  Literse  missae  ante  lucem  a  Leptft 
Capua  redditffi  sunt.  Idib.  Mart.  Pompeium  a  Brundisio  conscen. 
disse.— Ad  Attic,  ix.  14.  *      ' 


364 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


by  which  they  had  been  at  first  summoned  to  the 
attempt,  to  avoid  the  mischievous  impediments  left 
in  the  way  by  the  retiring  enemy*.  Caesar  would 
have  considered  himself  but  too  fortunate,  if  he  had 
been  provided  with  the  means  of  following  his  ad- 
versaries immediately  into  Greece,  and  finishing  the 
war  by  a  single  blow.  Being,  however,  wholly  des- 
titute of  transports,  he  was  obliged  to  content  himself, 
for  the  present,  with  giving  orders  for  the  immediate 
collection  of  a  fleet  in  the  harbour  of  Brundusium ; 
and  deeming  it  expedient,  since  his  principal  enemy 
had  eluded  his  grasp,  to  lose  no  time  in  crippling  his 
resources  in  other  quarters  where  they  were  most 
considerable,  he  decided  upon  carrying  his  arms 
without  further  delay  into  Spain,  at  that  time  held 
by  Afranius  and  Petreius,  the  lieutenants  of  Pompey, 
at  the  head  of  five  legions  and  a  considerable 
force  of  auxiliaries.  In  pursuance  of  this  plan  he  re- 
turned to  Rome  in  haste,  to  raise  the  requisite  funds 
and  to  make  the  necessary  preparations  for  the  ap- 
proaching campaign. 

In  the  meantime,  Cicero  had  continued  in  Cam- 
pania, dispirited  by  the  failure  of  his  efforts  to 
effect  a  peace,  disgusted  with  the  precipitate  retreat 
of  his  party,  and  wavering  more  and  more  daily 
in  his  former  resolution  to  exert  himself  in  the 
cause  of  Pompey,  after  the  determination  of  that 
general  to  abandon  Italy.  At  no,  period  of  his 
life  was  his  conduct  distinguished  by  greater  uncer- 
tainty, and,  it  is  to  be  feared  in  some  instances,  by 
greater  disingenuousness,  than  at  this.  Like  the  other 
leaders  on  tlie  same  side,  he  had  been  summoned  to 
unite  the  force  he  might  be  able  to  collect  with  the 
main  army  by  two  letters;  the  first,  directing  him 
to  advance  towards  Luceria,  and  the  second,  along, 
the  Appian  road  to  Brundusium  t.  To  both  he  had 
returned  evasive  answers;  pretending  a  willingness 


♦  Cewar.  Dc  BcUo  Civ.  u  28. 


f  Ad  Attic,  viii.  2. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


365 


to  defend   Terracina   and  the   neighbouring   coast, 
while  yet  uninformed  of  the  design  of  quitting  Italy, 
and  afterwards  expressing  his  belief  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  move  from  his  position,  since  the  coun- 
try through  which  his  march  must  be  directed  was 
already  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.     His  military 
command  had  been,  in  fact,  little  more  than  nommal, 
since  he  was  altogether  unprovided  with  funds  for  car- 
rying on  any  extensive  levies,  and  his  inclination  for 
the  service  does  not  seem  to  have  risen  above  the 
level  of  his  resources.    There  is  great  reason  to  be- 
lieve, however,  that  his  inaction,  of  which  he  after- 
wards made  a  merit  to  the  opposite  party,  was,  to 
a  considerable  extent,  the  result  of  a  perception  of  his 
own  interests.     It  is,  at  least,  evident,  that  the  vision 
of  a  triumph,  which  could  now  only  be  obtained 
through  the  medium  of  Caesar,  still  floated  before  his 
imagination,  and  it  seems  far  from  improbable,  that 
this  means  of  gratifying  his  vanity  had  no  incon- 
siderable share  in  producing  the  feebleness  and  languor 
with  which  he  at  first  entered  upon  the  duties  devolved 
upon  him  at  Capua,  and,  finally,  abandoned  them  alto- 
gether*. Itis,at  the  same  time,  certain  that  his  conduct 
was  such  as  to  lead  the  principal  members  of  the  fac- 
tion of  Caesar  to  view  him  in  the  light  of  a  secret  well- 
wisher  to  their  cause,  while,  in  the  camp  of  Pompey, 
he  was  almost  openly  denounced  as  a  traitor  to  the 
principles  which  he  had  a  short  time  before  professed. 
Many  temptations  were,  indeed,  held  out  to  induce 
his  quiet  acquiescence  in  the  unexpected  success  of 
those  who  were  opposed  to  the  senate.    His  son-in-law 
Dolabella   and  some   of  his  most  intimate  friends 
were  strenuously  exerting  themselves  in  their  service. 

♦  Sit  enim  nobis  amicus,  quod  incertum  est,  sed  sit ;  deferet 
triumphum.  Non  accipere  ne  pcriculosum  sit,  an  accipere  mvidio- 
sum  ad  bono8.-Ad  Attic,  viii.  3 ;  a  passage  pregnant  with  mean- 
ing, and  highly  important  for  the  due  appreciation  of  much  of 
Cicero's  subsequent  policy. 


366  THE  LIFE    OP  CICERO. 

His  wife  and  daughter  were  yet  at  Rome,  and  in 
danger  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  victor,  when- 
ever he  should  think  fit  to  take  possession  of  the 
already  conquered  capital.  Applications,  in  terms 
flattering  to  his  vanity,  were  constantly  made  to  him 
by  Ccelius,  Balbus,  and  others,  to  induce  him  to  offer 
his  assistance  to  their  leader  as  a  mediator  between 
the  rival  factions ;  and  Caesar  himself,  while  on  his 
hasty  march  towards  Brundusium,  had  written  to 
thank  him  for  his  late  conduct,  and  to  request  him  to 
return  to  the  metropolis,  in  order  that  he  might  avail 
himself  of  his  ''  wisdom,  influence,  and  dignity"  in 
settling  the  affairs  of  the  republic*.  His  letters  to 
Atticus,  written  almost  daily  at  this  crisis,  exhibit  a 
singular  picture  of  the  distress  of  mind  to  which  he 
was  reduced  by  the  war  between  his  feelings  of  inte- 
rest and  convictions  of  duty.  All  are  full  of  the 
severest  censures  of  Pompey,  and  lamentations  over  the 
lost  prudence  and  constancy  which  had  once  distin- 
guished his  character.  The  failure  of  his  own  does  not 
seem  to  have  occun-ed  to  him,  although  it  must  have 
been  obvious  to  every  one  else.  With  the  view  of  still 
possessing  the  means  of  joining  his  exiled  Order,  if 
he  should  ultimately  determine  upon  that  course,  he 
had  commanded  two  vessels  to  await  his  directions 

the  one  stationed  at  Caieta,  and  the  other  at  Brun- 

dusiumt ;  keeping  as  long  as  possible  the  means  of 
escape  open  either  by  the  upper  or  by  the  lower  sea. 
Yet,  with  every  facility  for  taking  this  decisive  step, 
he  continued  to  hesitate,  being  neither  willing  to 
incur  the  direct  charge  of  apostacy,  nor  able  to  sum- 
mon sufficient  disinterestedness  and  courage  to  put 
everything  to  the  hazard,  by  sailing  to  increase  the 
number  and  influence  of  the  adherents  of  Pompey  ; 
althoutrh  he  was  painfully  sensible  that  his  vacilla- 
tion was  open  to  the  most  unfavourable  interpreta- 
tion, on  the  part  of  his  late  allies,  and  daily  the  sub- 


THE   LIFE    OF    CICERO". 


867 


ject  of  their  harshest  censure.    While  this  state  of  feel- 
ing is  indicated  in  every  page  of  his  correspondence, 
it  is  impossible  to  view  his  pompous  expressions  of 
extravagant  devotion  towards  the  leader  whom  he 
had  recently  forsaken,  and  whom  he  might  yet  have 
materially  assisted,  in  any  other  light  than  mere  exag- 
gerations simply  dictated  by  his  sense  of  the  part 
which  it  would  have  been  most  decorous  for  him  to 
act.     In  one  epistle  he  writes  in  reference  to  Pompey  : 
— "  As  in  affairs  of  love  any  appearance  of  inelegance, 
folly,  or  want  of  neatness,  is  apt  to  alienate  us  from 
the  object  of  our  affections,  my  devotion  to  him  was 
for  a  while  suspended  by  the  meanness  and  disgrace- 
ful character  of  his  flight ;  not  a  single  action  having 
been  performed  by  him,  at  that  time,  which  mani- 
fested that  he  was  deserving  of  my  companionship 
in  his  retreat.      Now,  however,  my  fondness    again 
breaks  forth,  and  I  find  myself  unable  to  endure  the 
loss  of  his  society.     Neither  books,  nor  literature, 
nor  philosophy,  affords  me  any  relief  in  my  distress. 
Night  and  day  my  gaze  is  fixed  upon  the  sea,  over 
which,  like  the  bird  alluded  to  by  Plato,  I  long  to 
direct  my  flight*."     His  expressions   on  receiving 
news  of  the  preparations  making  against  Brundu- 
sium are  in  a  similar  strain  :—"  At  this  juncture, 
my  friend,  I  earnestly  entreat  you  to  advise  me  to 
the  best  of  your  ability  what  course  to  pursue.     An 
army  of  Romans  besieges  Cneius  Pompey — blockades 
him  with  trench  and  rampart— prohibits  him  from 
the  means  of  flight.     And  do  we  still  exist  ?     Does 
the  city  of  Rome  yet  stand  ?     Do  her  praetors  con- 
tinue to  distribute  justice  ?     Her  aediles  to  exhibit 
their  games  ?     Her  men  of  substance  to  lay  out  their 
money   at   interest?     Nay,   do  I  myself  sit   still? 
Shall  I  not  rather  madly  rush  forth,  and  excite  the 
people  of  the  municipal  towns  to  insurrection  ?    Alas ! 
•  Ad  Attic,  ix.  10. ;  Ibid.  ix.  J  2. 


♦  Ad  Attic,  ix.  6. 


t  Ad  Attic,  viii.  3. 


369 


THE  LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


the  well-disposed  will  not  follow  me;  the  unprin- 
cipled will  deride  me ;  the  revolutionary  party,  who 
are  not  only  well-armed  but  victorious,  will  restrain 
me  by  force.  What,  then,  is  your  opinion  ?  What 
your  advice  respecting  the  end  of  this  most  miserable 
existence?  Now,  indeed,  am  I  grieved  and  tor- 
mented, since  some  may  imagine  that  I  have  been 
prudent  and  fortunate  in  my  resolution  of  remaining 
behind.  How  different  are  my  own  sentiments!  for 
never  have  I  so  much  wished  to  share  the  successes 
of  my  friend,  as  to  be  a  partaker  of  his  caLamities*." 
These  are  the  words  of  the  rhetorician,  not  of  the 
devoted  adherent — of  the  man  who  tells  us  elsewhere 
that,  in  his  doubts  as  to  the  exact  course  which  it 
was  incumbent  upon  him  to  pursue  in  this  season  of 
perplexity,  he  amused  himself  with  declaiming  on 
both  sides  of  the  question  in  Greek  and  Latin  t, 
rather  than  of  one,  who  in  the  integrity  of  his  pur- 
pose could  well  afford  to  dispense  with  the  ingenuity 
of  sophistic  arguments,  either  for  the  satisfaction  of 
his  own  conscience,  or  the  defence  of  his  actions  from 
the  censure  of  others.  While  he  was  indulging  his 
pathetic  laments  for  the  absence  of  Pompey,  the  sea 
was  open  to  him,  and  the  sails  of  the  galleys  provided 
for  his  flight  already  fluttering  loose  in  the  wind;  and 
after  the  state  of  distraction  and  doubt,  which  he  has 
described  as  almost  prompting  him  desperately  to 
exert  his  eloquence  to  excite  Italy  to  a  rebellion,  we 
find  that  he  quietly  subsided  into  a  condition  of  utter 
inactivity,  by  which,  without  ensuring  the  favour  of 
the  opposite  party,  he  for  a  time  completely  lost  the 
respect  of  his  own. 

By  the  efforts  of  the  friends  of  both,  an  interview 
was  appointed  between  Caesar  and  Cicero,  while  the 

•  Ad  Attic,  ix.  2. 
•f"  The  subjects  of  some  of  thcRe  theses  are  given,  Ad  Attic,  ix.  4., 
Ei  ficrrreor  4v  rp  irarplSi  Tvpayytwufi^vrff  &c.  &c.  &c. 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


369 


former  was  on  his  way  from  Brundusium  to  Rome. 
From  a  complimentary  correspondence  which  had 
lately  passed  between  them,  it  was  anticipated  that 
this  might  terminate  in  their  permanent  union ; 
but  whether  Cicero  was  nerved  on  the  occasion  to 
more  than  ordinary  constancy,  by  the  conviction  that 
his  character  for  independence  was  now  completely 
at  stake  and  must  be  permanently  affected  by  his 
conduct,  or  whether  Caesar  was  not  sufficiently 
deferential  in  manner,  and  remiss  in  promising  the 
triumphal  honours  which  it  was  probably  expected 
he  would  have  offered,  it  is  certain,  that  any  addi- 
tional feeling  of  friendship,  on  either  side,  was  far 
from  being  engendered  by  the  meeting.  Cicero  has 
given  an  account  of  the  conversation  which  took 
place,  and  his  letter  to  Atticus  in  which  it  is  re- 
corded is  well  deserving  attention  *.  "  I  have  com- 
plied," he  writes,  "  in  both  respects  with  your  advice ; 
for  my  discourse  with  Caesar  was  of  such  a  nature 
as  rather  to  induce  him  to  feel  respect  than  gratitude 
towards  me ;  while  I  remained  firm  in  my  resolu- 
lution  of  not  returning  to  the  city.  Yet,  in  my 
expectation  that  he  would  easily  be  persuaded  to  give 
his  assent,  I  was  utterly  deceived.  Never  have  I 
seen  a  person  less  pliable.  He  affirmed,  that  if  I 
refused  to  come,  his  conduct  would  appear  to  be  con- 
demned by  my  absence,  and  that  others  would  be 
induced  to  show  the  same  reluctance.  I  answered, 
that  my  own  case  was  peculiar.  After  a  long  dis- 
cussion he  exclaimed  : — '  Well,  then,  come  for  the 
purpose  of  negociating  a  peace  for  us !'  '  May  I  do  so,' 
I  inquired,  'on  my  own  terms  V  'Do  you  suppose,'  he 
asked  in  reply,  'that  I  should  venture  to. prescribe 
them  to  you  V  '  This,  then,'  I  continued,  'will  be  the 
course  I  shall  pursue :  First,  I  will  endeavour  to  pro- 
cure a  decree  of  the  senate  to  forbid  forces  from  being 

*  Ad  Atiic.  ix.  18. 
B  B 


S70  TUE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 

conveyed  into  Spain  or  Greece.  In  the  next  place, 
I  will  draw  a  pathetic  description  of  the  condition  of 
Pompey.'  'Such  suhjects/  he  answered,  '  I  will  never 
allow  to  be  mentioned.'  '  So  I  thought,'  I  rejoined, 
'  and  for  that  very  reason  refuse  to  come,  because  I 
have  no  other  course  but  to  absent  myself  altogether, 
or  to  speak  on  these  points,  and  on  many  others  upon 
which  I  should  find  it  impossible  to  keep  silence.' 
Our  interview  ended  by  his  requesting  me,  as  if 
seeking  a  means  of  escape  from  the  argument,  to  take 
further  time  for  deliberation.  This  there  was  no 
refusing,  and  on  these  terms  we  separated.  From 
all  that  passed,  I  believe  I  am  no  favourite  with 
Caesar.  I  have,  however,  the  approbation  of  my 
own  conscience,  a  feeling  to  which  I  have  long- 
been  a  stranger.  For  the  rest,  ye  gods  !  what  cha- 
racters are  those  about  him.  What  a  fiendish- 
looking  band,  to  use  an  expression  of  your  own  *. 
Among  others  I  observed  Eros,  the  son  of  Celer. 
How  desperate  does  his  cause  appear !  How  aban- 
doned his  followers  ! — Here  the  son  of  Servius — there 
the  son  of  Titinius ;  the  whole  multitude,  in  short, 
who  lately  blockaded  Pompey, — in  all  six  legions. 
The  daring  and  vigilance  of  the  man  are  astonishing; 
I  foresee  no  end  of  our  calamities. 

"Aid  me,  I  beseech  you,  with  your  best  advice 
in  the  present  emergency,  for  the  crisis  has  now 
arrived.  I  had,  however,  almost  forgotten  his  last 
most  offensive  expression,  namely,  that  if  he  were 
precluded  from  making  use  of  my  counsels,  he  would 
have  recourse  to  those  of  others ;  and,  in  fact,  descend 
to  any  expedient  he  might  deem  necessary. 

"*  You  have  seen,  then,'  you  will  remark,  *  the 

man  to  be  just  as  I  had  described  him.' — I  have  ;  and 

have  lamented  over  the  confirjnation  of  your  previous 

opinion.  For  this,  and  for  every  other  suitable  feeling, 

•  Qui  comitatus  ! — qu£e,  ut  soles  diccre,  Wfcvia ! 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO.  371 

you  will  give  me  full  credit.  I  have  nothing  further  to 
add,  but  that  on  parting,  he  pursued  his  journey  to 
"Pedum,  while  I  set  out  on  my  return  to  Arpinum." 
From  the  moment  of  his  interview  with  Caesar, 
the  resolution  of  Cicero  to  withdraw  from  Italy  ap- 
pears to  have  gained  additional  strength.     He  was, 
however,   still   detained,    first,   by  his  intention  of 
investing  his  son  with  the  manly  gown,  and,  sub- 
sequently, as  the  summer  was  drawing  near,  by  his 
reluctance  to  put  to  sea  until  there  should  be  an 
almost  certain  prospect  of  a  favourable  navigation. 
While  he,  therefore,  yet  remained  in  his  brother  s  house 
near  Minturnae,  to  which  he  had  retired  for  the  sake 
of  greater  privacy,  watching  anxiously,  as  he  states, 
for  the  arrival  of  the  swallows  as  the  signal  for  his 
departure*,  Caesar  having  disposed  everything  accord- 
ing to  his  wishes  at  Rome,  and  procured,  in  spite  of 
the  fruitless  opposition  of  the  tribune  Metellus,  an 
enormous  sum  from  the  public  treasury  for  carrying 
on  the  war,  proceeded  to  wrest  the  province  of  Spain 
from  the  hands  of  the  Pompeian  faction.    But,  wliile 
on  his  march,  he  thought  it  necessary,  in  consequence 
of  a  report  which  had  reached  his  ears  of  the  pre- 
parations of  Cicero  for  his  departure,  to  leave  strict 
orders  with  his  officers  not  to  suffer  any  person  of 
rank  to  quit  the  Italian  ports  without  especial  permis- 
sion ;  at  the  same  time  despatching  an  epistle, in  which 
he  endeavoured  to  alter  the  determination  which  had 
been  intimated  to  him,  in  the  following  terms  : — 

"  CiESAR,  IMPERATOR,  TO  CICERO,  IMPERATOR  f. 

"  Although  well  assured  that  I  have  no  reason  to 
suspect  you  of  any  rash  or  imprudent  design,  I  have, 
notwithstanding,  been  induced  by  a  very  prevalent 
rumour  to  request  you,  by  every  kind  feeling  which 
exists  between  us,  not  to  think  of  repairing  to  a  party 


*  Ad  Attic.  X.  2. 


B   B    2 


t  Ibid.  8. 


372 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


DOW  involved  in  ruin,  and  which  you  had  determined 
not  to  join  while  its  resources  were  still  unim- 
paired. For,  by  so  doing,  you  will  inflict  a  serious 
blow  upon  our  friendship,  while  you  entirely  neglect 
your  own  interests ;  since  you  will  appear,  by  your  de- 
parture, not  to  be  seeking  a  more  prosperous  fortune, 
(inasmuch  as  fortune  has  invariably  declared  itself  in 
my  favour,)  nor  to  assist  the  cause  you  formerly 
espoused,  (forthis  remainsthesameas  when  yourefused 
to  aid  it  with  your  counsels,)  but  rather  to  condemn 
some  part  of  my  late  conduct,  by  this  means  wound- 
ing my  feelings  in  the  severest  manner  possible. 
By  all  the  rights  of  friendship,  therefore,  I  entreat 
you  to  be  better  advised.  What,  let  me  in  con- 
clusion ask,  can  be  more  suitable  to  the  character  of 
a  virtuous  and  peaceable  man,  or  of  a  good  citizen, 
than  studiously  to  avoid  taking  any  part  in  civil 
commotions ;  from  which  I  may  also  hint,  that  many 
who  would  otherwise  have  been  induced  to  take  part 
in  them,  have  been  deterred  by  the  simple  consider- 
ation of  their  own  danger  ?  After  you  have  reflected 
upon  the  evidence  of  my  intentions  afforded  by  my 
whole  life,  and  on  the  impartiality  of  the  friendship 
which  prompts  this  opinion,  you  will  find  no  course 
more  safe  or  more  honourable  to  yourself,  than  to 
refrain  from  contention  in  every  form.  Dated  on  the 
road,  this  16th  day  of  April." 

The  letter  of  Caesar  was  received  almost  at  the 
same  time  with  one  from  Antony  to  a  similar  effect. 
This  unblushing  profligate  Cicero  has  described  as  at 
the  time  parading  in  insolent  triumph  through  the 
different  towns  in  his  chariot  drawn  by  tame  lions, 
accompanied  by  his  mistress,  the  actress  Cytheris*, 
as  well  as  his  wife,  and  followed  by  a  train  of  car- 
riages filled  with  the  abandoned  companions  of  his 
sensuality.  He  had  been  commissioned  bv  Cfesar  to 
•  Ad  Attic.  X.  10 ;  Ibid.  x.  13.  , 


i  i 


THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO.  373 

command  the  troops  left  in  Italy  during  his  absence, 
and  was  now  on  his  way  towards  Misenura,  probably 
with  the  intention  of  appointing  proper  agents  to 
watch  the  adjacent  coast.  His  epistle,  which  little 
resembles  that  of  the  assassin  to  his  future  victim,  is 
thus  worded: — 

"ANTONY,  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  AND  PROPR^aSTOR, 
WISHES    HEALTH    TO   CICERO,    IMPERATOR. 

"Unless  my  friendship  towards  you  were  excessive, 
and  much  greater  than  you  imagine,  I  should  feel  no 
apprehension  from  the  rumours  which  are  current 
respecting  your  intentions — especially  since  I  consider 
them  without  foundation.  But  because  my  attach- 
ment is  unbounded,  I  cannot  dissemble  the  truth,  that 
even  false  reports  have  great  weight  with  me  when 
you  are  the  subject  of  them.  It  is  surely  not  to  be. 
believed  that  you  are  meditating  to  retire  beyond 
the  sea,— regarding  as  you  do  your  son-in-law  Dola- 
bella,  and  your  daughter  Tullia,  that  most  exemplary 
woman ;  and  being  yourself  held  in  so  much  esteem 
by  all  of  us,  whose  concern,  I  swear  to  you,  for  your 
dignity  and  honour,  is  greater  if  any  thing  than  your 
own.  I  could  not,  however,  suppose  it  to  be  my  part 
as  a  friend,  to  be  indifferent  respecting  the  discourse 
even  of  theworthless,  especially  considering  the  delicate 

part  imposed  upon  me  by  our  late  differences — which 
were  the  effect  rather  of  my  jealousy  than  of  any  m- 
jury  of  which  I  had  to  complain.  For  I  wish  you  to 
be  persuaded,  that  no  one  is  dearer  to  me  than  your- 
self, with  the  exception  of  my  beloved  Caesar,  and 
that  I  am  also  convinced,  that  Caesar  reckons  Marcus 
Cicero  among  his  most  valuable  friends. 

"  Therefore,  my  dear  Cicero,  I  beseech  you,  on 
the  one  hand,  to  let  matters  remain  as  they  are,  and 
to  disregard  the  friendship  of  a  man  who  first  in- 
flicted an  injury,  that  he  might  have  an  opportunity 
of  conferring  a  benefit ;  and,  on  the  other,  not  to 


374 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


fly  from  one  who,  even  if  he  felt  no  afl'ection  for  you, 
(which  is  altogether  impossible,)  would  still  earnestly 
desire  you  to  continue  in  safety  and  honour.  I  have 
sent  to  you,  as  a  particular  mark  of  esteem,  my  most 
intimate  friend  Calpurnius,  that  you  may  know  my 
anxiety  concerning  your  safety  and  dignity." 

From  his  friend  Coelius,  who  was  on  the  point  of 
setting  out  with  Caesar  for  Spain,  he  also  received 
advice  well  calculated  to  act  upon  his  timid  tempera- 
ment. The  latter,  after  expressing  the  utmost  con- 
cern at  his  determination  of  abandoning  his  country, 
proceeds  to  warn  him  to  the  following  effect*  : — 

"  I  earnestly  entreat  and  conjure  you,  Cicero,  by 
your  fortunes  and  your  children,  not  to  take  any  re- 
solution unfavourable  to  your  welfare  and  safety. 
For  I  call  gods  and  men,  as  well  as  our  friendship, 
to  witness,  that  my  predictions  and  warnings  are 
founded  on  no  rash  and  hasty  conclusion ;  but  that 
the  intelligence  I  convey  is  the  result  of  a  personal 
interview  with  Caesar,  in  which  I  ascertained  from 
himself  the  plan  he  is  determined  to  pursue,  if  victo- 
rious. If  you  think  that  he  will  retain  bis  former  cle- 
mency and  moderation  in  dismissing  his  enemies,  and 
proposing  terms  of  peace,  you  are  greatly  mistaken. 
His  designs,  as  well  as  his  expressions,  are  character- 
ised by  nothing  but  fierceness  and  severity.  He  has 
set  out  from  the  city  highly  enraged  with  the  senate, 
on  account  of  the  late  intercessions.  I  solemnly 
assure  you,  there  will  be  hereafter  no  opportunity  of 
deprecating  his  resentment.  If,  therefore,  your 
only  son,  your  family,  your  expectations  for  the 
future,  are  of  any  value  to  you  ;  if  I  myself,  or  that 
excellent  man  your  son-in-law,  continue  an  object 
of  your  regard,  it  is  your  duty  not  to  throw  us  into 
such  a  condition  of  suffering  or  perplexity,  that  we 
shall  be  compelled  either  to  execrate  and  abandon 
the  cause,  in  the  ascendency  of  which  our  only  se- 

*  Ad  Diversos,  viii.  16. 


THE   LIFE   OF  CICERO. 


375 


curity  consists,  or  by  desiring  its  success,  necessarily 
to  indulge  an  impious  wish  against  your  safety. 

"  Consider,  in  fine,  how  much   blame   you   have 
already   incurred  by   your    hesitation    and    delay. 
Surely  it  would  be  the  extreme  of  folly  to  act  against 
Caesar  when   victorious,    after   making    no   hostile 
movement  against  him,   as  long  as  the  contest  con- 
tinued undecided;   and  to  join  a  party  now  consist- 
ing of  fugitives,  which  you  avoided,  while  still  offer-  . 
ing  resistance.     Beware,  lest  while  ashamed  of  not 
having  fully  acted  the  part  of  a  man  of  rank,  you 
end  by  adopting  that  course  which  is  least  worthy 
of  one.     But  if  you  will  not  follow  the  whole  of  this 
advice,    at  least  let  me  prevail  upon  you  to  wait 
until  you  hear  the  result  of  our  operations  in  Spain, 
which  I  predict  will  be  ours  as  soon  as  Caesar  arrives 
in  the  country  ;   and  what  hope  the  opposite  party 
can  entertain  after  its  loss  I  know  not.    What  can  be 
your  own  design,  moreover,  injoining  yourself  to  those 
whose  cause  is  utterly  desperate,  I  am  equally  at  a 
-loss  to  conjecture."     Such  representations  might  na- 
turally have  been  expected  to  produce  the  effect  in- 
tended by  the  writer  upon  an  individual  of  greater 
constancy   and    resolution    than    Cicero.       But    it 
appears  that  his  mind  was  preoccupied  by  terrors, 
which    more    than   counterbalanced    his    dread    of 
Caesar's  wrath  on  account    of  his  departure.      He 
had  latterly  begun  to  listen  to  the  report,  that  the 
return  of  the  army  acting  against  the  lieutenants  of 
Pompey  in   Spain  would  be  a  signal  for  a  general 
proscription  and  massacre,  which  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  their  leader  to  prevent,  even  if  he  should 
desire  it.     Under  the  impression*,  therefore,  that  he 
was  choosing  the  least  imminent    of  two  dangers, 

*  It  has  also  been  conjectured  that  certain  rumours  of  the 
defeat  of  Ca5sar'8  army  in  Spain  might  Ijave  induced  him  to  deter- 
mine to  join  the  army  of  Pompey  immediately.  This,  however,  i| 
mere  surmise. 


376 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


he  continued  his  preparations  for  his  flight,  which  he 
intended  should  be  shared  by  his  son  and  nephew 
Quintus;  the  latter  of  whom  had  given  him,  as  well 
as  his  own  father,  considerable  anxiety  by  a  rash  and 
ill-advised  journey  to  CsBsar,  which  ending  without 
the  production  of  any  benefit  to  himself,  had 
threatened  seriously  to  compromise  his  nearest  rela- 
tions. It  was,  however,  no  longer  an  easy  matter  to 
.elude  the  vigilance  of  Antony,  who  was  yet  in  his 
neighbourhood,  and  strictly  observing,  according  to 
his  instructions,  all  means  of  egress  from  Italy  by 
the  Tuscan  sea.  To  him  Cicero  at  first  applied, 
under  the  avowed,  and  possibly  the  sincere,  intention 
of  proceeding  to  Malta,  and  there,  as  in  a  neutral 
territory,  awaiting  the  issue  of  the  war.  The  reply 
of  the  tribune,  which  is  complimented  with  the 
title  of  a  display  of  drunken  insolence*,  shows 
how  soon  this  ready  agent  of  a  daring  faction 
could  drop  the  mask  of  urbanity  and  politeness, 
when  his  inclinations  were  thwarted,  and  assume 
the  stern  and  authoritative  tones  of  the  imperious 
soldier,  regarding  nothing  but  the  will  of  his 
superior  in  command.  "  How  consistent  with  sin- 
cerity," he  ironically  commences,  "  is  the  plan  you 
propose  !  He  who  wishes  to  remain  neutral  con- 
tinues in  his  own  country.  He  who  abandons  it 
makes  himself  instantly  a  partisan.  I,  however,  am 
not  the  person  to  determine  who  is  licensed  to  depart, 
and  who  must  be  compelled  to  remain.  My  duty, 
according  to  the  wish  of  Caesar,  is  to  suflfer  no  indi- 
vidual whatever  to  retire  from  Italy.  It  is  of  little 
consequence,  therefore,  whether  I  approve  of  your 
conduct  or  not,  since  I  am  not  instructed  to  make 
any  concession  in  your  favour.  My  opinion  is,  that 
you  should  communicate  with  Caesar  himself,  and 
prefer  your  request  to  him.  I  doubt  not  that  you 
will  obtain  it,  especially  since  you  promise  to  do  it 
*  Vide  quam  ad  haec  vapoiviKws,  &c Ad  Attic,  x.  10. 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


877 


in  such  a  manner  as  to  show  your  continued  regard 
for  the  friendship  between  us/' 

A  reply  couched  in  such  unambiguous  terms  left 
no  ground  for  doubt  that  any  attempt  to  efiect  what 
the  commission  of  Antony  was  expressly  intended 
to  guard  against,  would  be  opposed  by  open  force. 
There  now,  therefore,  remained  but  the  expedient  of 
a  secret  escape,  which  Cicero  was  not  slow  to  adopt. 
"  You  see,"  he  observes  by  way  of  comment  upon 
the  above  letter,  "  what  a  genuine  Spartan  scroll  I 
have  received.  I  will,  however,  yet  contrive  ef- 
fectually to  overreach  my  correspondent*."  In  fol- 
lowing out  this  resolution,  he  set  out  shortly  after- 
wards from  Cumae  for  his  villa  near  Pompeii,  as  if 
he  had  been  induced  to  despair  of  being  able  to  quit 
Italy  ;  and  finding  that  Antony,  as  he  had  expected, 
was  induced  by  his  movements  to  believe  that  he 
had  now  made  up  his  mind  to  obey  the  prohibition 
of  Caesar,  completed  without  molestation  all  arrange- 
ments for  his  voyage.  While  thus  employed,  he 
was  visited  by  a  deputation  from  the  inhabitants  of 
Pompeii,  and  from  the  centurions  of  three  cohorts 
stationed  there  in  garrison,  offering,  if  he  would 
undertake  to  place  himself  at  their  head,  to  surrender 
the  town  into  his  hands,  and  to  commence  an  imme- 
diate insurrection  against  Caesar.  Although,  how- 
ever, he  had  just  before  mentioned  to  Atticus  an 
intention  of  following  the  example  of  Coelius  Caldust, 
(who  had  distinguished  himself  by  his  efforts  to  excite 
the  people  of  Italy  against  Sylla,)  expressing,  at  the 
same  time,  an  opinion  that,  from  the  growing  disaf- 
fection among  the  troops,  a  most  favourable  oppor- 
tunity had  now  presented  itself  for  erecting  the 
standard  of  revolt,  he  was  far  from  being  the  person 
seriously  to  intend  placing  himself  at  the  head  of 
any  such  movement ;  nor,   indeed,   considering  the 

*  Habes  (TKxndhTjv  AaKwviicfiv.     Omnino  excipiam  hominem. — 
Ad  Attic.  X.  10.  t  Ad  Attic,  x.  12. 


378 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


slight  prospect  of  success  it  held  out,  could  he  justly 
be  blamed  for  declining  an  undertaking  so  desperate. 
He,  therefore,  left  his  villa  at  day-break,  on  the  fol- 
lowing rooming,  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  a  meet- 
ing with  the  deputation  ;  proceeding  towards  Formiae, 
where  he  was  still  prevented  for  some  time,  by  the 
prevalent  calm,  from  embarking.  On  the  8th 
of  June,  having  at  length  obtained  weather  suitable 
for  his  sailing,  and  received  intelligence  just  before 
quitting  Formiae  of  the  birth  of  a  grandchild,  he 
went  on  board  the  vessel  he  had  procured  to  convey 
him  into  Greece,  in  company  with  his  brother,  his 
son,  and  nephew ;  and  from  thence  wrote  a  farewell 
letter  to  Terentia,  informing  her  of  his  recovery 
from  a  sudden  and  severe  indisposition,  and  desiring 
her  to  offer  the  usual  sacrifices  in  his  stead  to  jEscu- 
lapius  and  Apollo*.  Of  his  subsequent  voyage  to  the 
coast  of  Epirus,  or  the  time  of  his  landing  there,  we 
have  no  account, — his  letters  to  Atticus  and  to  his 
other  friends,  for  several  ensuing  months,  not  form- 
ing part  of  his  extant  correspondence. 

He  found  at  Dyrrachium  the  principal  supporters 
of  the  cause  of  Pompey,  formidable  both  in  numbers 
and  resources,  in  the  dignity  of  their  titles,  and 
the  influence  of  their  names,  but  still  beset  by  all  the 
faults  which  had  from  the  first  distinguished  their 
party, — presumption  and  arrogance  —  the  want  of 
unanimity  in  council  and  in  action — and  a  jealousy 
of  each  other,  which  eflfectually  prevented  any  great 
and  simultaneous  exertion  for  the  common  benefit. 
This  alone  can  account,  and  it  is  amply  sufficient  for 
the  purpose,  for  the  astonishing  supineness  with 
whicli  their  leader,  although  with  a  now  numerous 
army  and  a  fleet  of  five  hundred  galleys  at  his  com- 
mand, ill  addition  to  possessing  all  the  resources 
which  the  East  could  supply,  suffered  his  lieutenants 
to  be  beaten  in  detail,  and  one  province  after  another 

*  Ad  DiversoB,  xiv.  8. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


379 


lost,  without  a  single  effort  on  his  part  to  turn  the 
tide  of  victory,  now  running  strongly  in  favour  of 
his  rival.     In  immediate  attendance   upon  his   per- 
son   might    be    seen   Cato,    with    his    melancholy 
aspect,  long  hair,  and  sordid  vest,  in  token  of  his 
sorrow  for  the  distractions  under  which  his  country 
was   suffering  ;   Labienus,     formerly   the   favourite 
lieutenant  of  Csesar,  but  who  had  deserted  him  at  the 
very  commencement  of  the  war ;  Marcus  Brutus  and 
Caius  Cassius,  the  future  avengers  of  the  cause,  the 
ruin  of  which  they  were  unable  to  avert ;  Bibulus, 
who  had  been  the  colleague  of   Caesar  in  his  first 
consulate  ;    Caius  Marcellus,  Lentulus  Spinther,  and 
a  sufficient  number  of  general  officers,  to  constitute  an 
entire  senate.  With  thefiery  and  impetuous  youth,  who 
represented  in  arms  the  haughty  aristocracy  of  Rome, 
were  mingled   the  gorgeous  retinues  of  the  princes 
of  Cappadocia,  Syria,  and  Galatia,  the  fierce  and  re- 
doubted horsemen  of  Thessaly  and  Thrace,  the  practised 
archers  of  Crete,  and  the  hardy  mariners  of  Corcyra, 
Athens,  and  Egypt.     Amidst  this  motley  crowd, 
the  arrival  of  Cicero,  although  by  Pompey  himself  he 
was  received  with  studied  respect,  does  not  seem  to 
have  drawn  forth  extraordinary  marks   of   appro- 
bation ;  and  it  is  stated  by  Plutarch,  that  Cato  in 
private   severely  censured   him  for   quitting   Italy, 
where   alone   his   services   could  now  be  of  use  to 
Pompey,  (by  the  exertion  of  his  influence  with  the 
Csesarian  faction,  or,  if  necessary,  by  opposing  them 
in  the  popular  assemblies,)  for  a  field  of  action  in 
which  he  was  never  intended  by  natural  or  acquired 
habits  to  be  conspicuous.     It  is  further  affirmed,  that 
although  he  brought  a  considerable  sum  of  money  for 
the  use  of  the  army,  he  was  not  rewarded  by  being 
appointed  to  anycommissionof  consequence*,  and  that 

•  He  himself  states  that  he  constantly  declined  every  coramission 
offered  to  him  :— « Ipse  fugi  adhuc  omne  munus,  eo  magis  quod 


380 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


THE   LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


381 


he,  before  long,  rendered  himself  an  object  of  no  com- 
mon dislike  to  the  vehement  spirits  about  him,  by 
his  moderate  and  conciliatory  counsels;  which  were  so 
frequently  urged,  as  to  compel  Pompey  at  length  ex- 
pressly to  desire  him  to  refrain  from  again  introducing 
the  mention  of  a  peace  into  the  general  deliberations. 
For  some  months  the  senatorian  leaders  had  ample 
opportunity  for  carrying  on  their  preparations,  and 
training  their  fr)rces,  which   now  amounted  to  nine 
legions  of  infantry,  besides  an  immense  host  of  auxi- 
liaries,  and   seven   thousand  cavalry,  without  any 
prospect   of  an   interruption   on  the   part  of  their 
antagonist.      But   towards  the   close   of  the   year, 
Caesar  having  returned  victorious  from   Spain,  and 
secured  at  the  comitia,  over  which  he  presided  as 
dictator,  the  return  of  himself  and  Publius  Servilius, 
as  consuls,  began,  undeterred  by  the  tempests  of  win- 
ter, to  make  the  necessary  arrangements  for  transport- 
ing his  army  from   Italy  to  the  shores  of  Greece. 
He  himself,   the  moment  after  he  had  performed  the 
usual  inaugural  ceremonies,  set  out  for  Brundusium  ; 
where,  on  the  4th  day  of  January,  a.  u.  c.  706,  he 
embarked,  with  twenty  thousand  infantry  and  six 
hundred  horse,  and  having  fortunately  escaped  the 
far  superior  fleet  of  the  enemy,  consisting  of  a  hundred 
vessels  of  war,  (which,  under  Bibulus,  was  lying  in 
the  harbours  of  Corcyra,  prevented  from  putting  to 
sea  by  the  terrors  of  the  season,)  succeeded  in  landing 
his  army  at  Pharsalus  in  Epirus ;  equally  regardless 
of  the  weakness  of  his  convoy,  which  amounted  to 
but  twelve  armed  galleys,  and  the  terrors  of  the  iron- 
bound    coast,   lying    beneath  the   thunder-stricken 
heights  of  the  Acroceraunian  mountains*.     It  does 

ita  nihil  poterat  agi  ut  mihi  et  meis  rebus  aptum  esset. — Ad  Attic, 
xi.  4.  Written  from  the  camp  at  Dyrrachium,  and,  as  it  is  evident, 
shortlj  after  the  repulse  of  Ccesar. 

*  Caesar,  De  Belle  Cir.  iii.  c.  6. 


not  fall  within  the  scope  of  the  present  work  to  enter 
at  length  upon  the  particulars  of  the  celebrated  cam- 
paign which  followed.     The  demonstrations  of  the 
two  armies  upon  the  Apsus  and  the  Haliacmon, — the 
various  projects  on  either  side  for  the  preservation  or 
interruption    of  the   means  of  communication  with 
Italy — the  gigantic  works  raised  by  the  contending 
generals  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Dyrrachium,  and 
the  subsequent  masterly  movements  of  both  in  an 
intricate  war  of  detachments  for  the  occupation  or 
defence  of  important  positions,  would  be  more  suit- 
ably described  in  a  life  of  Csesar  than  of  Cicero.     Of 
most  of  these  the  latter  was  probably  an  eye-witness; 
and  in  some  instances  perhaps  actively  engaged  in 
the  operations  of  the  army  to  which  he  was  attached. 
In  his  character  of  Imperator,  he  might  have  been 
entrusted  to  defend  some  part  of  the  famous  lines 
extending    for   the   distance   of   fifteen   miles,    and 
strengthened  by  twenty-four  forts,  by  which  Pompey 
opposed  the  still  more  astonishing  works  of  circum- 
vallation  thrown  up  by  his  antagonist.     He  might 
also  have  been  one  among  the  combatants  in  the 
sternly  contested  action,  in  which  Caesar  suffering,  for 
the  first  time,  a  serious  and  almost  fatal  repulse,  in 
an  attempt  to  force  the  entrenchments  of  Pompey, 
was  only  saved  from  ruin  by  the  hesitation  of  the 
victor,  and  compelled,  after  a  loss  of  two  thousand  of 
his  best  troops  and  thirty  standards,  to  abandon  the 
whole  of  the  fortifications  on  which  he  had  bestowed 
so   much  time  and   labour,   and  to   commence  his 
retreat  into  Thessaly*.    The  picture,  however,  drawn 
of  him  at  this  period  by  his  ancient  biographer,  is 
anything  but  that  of  a  zealous  and  enterprising  officer. 
He  is  said,  probably  under  the  influence  of  disappoint- 
ment at  not  finding  his  services  appreciated  to  the 
extent  which   he   had   expected,  to  have  made  no 
*  Dio,  xli.—  Caesar,  DelJello  Civ.  iii.  67. 


382  THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 

secret  of  his  repenting  his  voyagp  to  Epirus,  and  while 
wandering  about  the  camp  with  a  solemn  expression 
of  countenance,  as  well  as  when  summoned  to  attend 
the  ofeneral  councils,  to  have  amused  himself  with  a 
succession  of  keen  and  petulant  witticisms  against  the 
general  plan  of  the  campaign*.  Yet  he  appears,  at 
least,  to  have  acted  in  many  instances  the  part  of  a 
sound  and  judicious  adviser,  whose  plans,  if  they  had 
been  followed,  would  have  saved  Pompey  from  the 
ruin  into  which  he  was  soon  afterwards  precipitated ; 
since  he  was  one  of  the  few  who  strenuously  advised 
him  to  protract  the  war  by  every  means  possible ; 
and,  while  availing  himself  of  his  unquestionable 
superiority  by  sea  for  the  purpose  of  precluding  the 
enemy  from  the  possibility  of  receiving  supplies 
from  Italy,  to  reduce  his  strength  by  degrees,  with- 
out allowing  him  any  opportunity  of  retrieving  his 
fortune  by  coming  to  a  decisive  engagement t.     Such 

*  ''  Some  of  Cicero's  savings  on  this  occasion  are  preserved  by 
different  writers.  When  Pompey  put  him  in  mind  of  his  coming  so 
late  to  them, — *How  can  I  come  late,'  said  he, '  when  I  found  nothing 
in  readiness  among  you?'  And  upon  Pompey's  asking  him  sarcasti- 
cally where  his  son-in-law  Dolabella  was  : — *  He  is  with  your  father- 
in-law,'  replied  he.  To  a  person  newly  arrived  from  Italy,  and 
informing  them  of  a  strong  report  at  Rome  that  Pompey  was  blocked 
up  by  Caesar: — 'And  you  sailed  thither,  therefore,'  said  he,  'that  you 
might  see  it  with  your  own  eyes,'  And  even  after  their  defeat, 
when  Nonnius  was  exhorting  them  to  coui-age,  because  there  were 
seven  eagles  left  in  Pompey's  camp, — '  You  encourage  well,'  said  he, 
*  if  we  were  to  fight  with  jackdaws.*  By  the  frequency  of  these 
splenetic  jokes,  he  is  said  to  have  provoked  Pompey  so  far  as  to  tell 
him,  '  I  wish  that  you  would  go  over  to  the  other  side  that  you  may 
begin  to  fear  us.' — Vide  Macrob,  Saturn,  ii.  3. ;  Plut.  in  Cic.  i.'' — 
Middleton's  Life  of  Cicero,  p.  434. 

•f-  Thesame  plan  is  suggested  by  Coelius,who  had  now  deserted  the 
cause  of  Caesar,  and  was  preparing  to  excite  the  useless  insurrection  in 
the  course  of  which  he  lost  his  life,  in  his  epistle  to  Cicero: — Ad 
Diversos,  lib.  viii.  17.  Quod  isticfacitis,  &c.  "  What  are  you  doing 
on  the  other  side  of  the  water?  Are  you  imprudently  waiting  to  give 
tlie  enemy  battle?     What  Pompey's  forces  may  be,  I  know  not ; 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  333 

opinions,  impatiently  listened  to  before  by  the  impetu- 
ous nobility,  who  were  loudly  clamouring  for  battle, 
were  treated  with  the  utmost  contempt,  after  what 
they  were  pleased  to  term  the  victory  of  Dyrra- 
chium  and  the  flight  of  Caesar.  An  immediate 
pursuit  was  consequently  decided  upon,  and  after 
leaving  Cicero,  who  was  as  much  deterred  by  ill- 
humour  as  by  the  weak  state  of  his  health^'  from  accom- 
panying him,  together  with  Cato  and  Marcus  Varro,  to 
defend  his  camp,  with  fifteen  cohorts,  Pompey  set  out 
with  the  rest  of  his  army  for  the  plains  of  Thessaly. 
The  infatuation  and  folly  which  had  hitherto  dis- 
tinguished the  conduct  of  his  principal  adherents 
continued  to  influence  them  to  the  last.  Under 
the  same  overweening  estimation  of  their  own 
prowess,  which  prompted  them,  on  the  eve  of 
battle,  to  dispute  among  themselves  for  the  offices 
of  Ceesar,  while  that  admirable  strategist  was  yet 
in  arms  before  them  and  calmly  preparing  for  their 
destruction ;  as  well  as  to  entwine  their  tents  with 
laurel  and  ivy,  in  anticipation  of  the  easy  determina- 
tion in  their  favour  of  a  contest  which  many  among 
them  were  destined  never  to  survive,  they  were  not  long 
in  hurrying,  by  taunts  and  sarcasms,  their  leader  into 
an  encragement  perhaps  the  least  called  for  among  the 
many  which  have  been  unnecessarily  delivered.  The 
armies  encountered  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Enipeus, 
near  the  town  of  Pharsalus,  on  the  ninth  day  of 
Aucmstt,  on  a  fair  and  open  field,  with  little  advan- 


but  Caesar's  I  am  sure  are  accustomed  to  action,  and  inured  to  all 
the  hardships  of  the  most  severe  campaigns."  Meimoth.—- 
Ccelius  was  subsequently  slain  by  the  soldiers  of  Caesar,  at  Thurii 
in  Lucania.  His  principal  motive  for  deserting  his  former  party 
seems  to  have  been  his  jealousy  of  Trcbonius,  whom  Casar  ha,d 
entrusted  with  the  management  of  the  aflfairs  of  the  city,  during  his 
absence,  in  preference  to  himself. 

*  Me  conficit  solicitude,  ex  qu^  etiam  summa  infirmitas  corporis, 
&c.— Ad  Attic,  xi.  5 — (From  the  Camp.) 

t  V.  Id.  Sextil.  A.u.c.  706— in  reality  the  beginning  of  June, 


384 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


tage  of  position  on  either  side,  but  with  an  immense 
superiority  of  numbers  in  favour  of  Pompey,  whose 
force  was  more  than  double  that  of  his  opponent. 
The  result  is  familiar  to  all  in  the  slightest  degree 
acquainted  with  general  history.  The  vainglorious 
chivalry  who  had  been  so  forward  to  provoke  the 
conflict  were  routed  at  its  very  commencement,  and 
by  their  flight  leaving  the  archers  and  slingers,  whojn 
they  were  intended  to  support,  at  the  mercy  of  the 
enemy,  and  the  flank  of  their  own  army  exposed  to  the 
terrible  charge  of  the  veterans  by  whom  they  had 
been  repulsed,  determined  irretrievably  the  fate  of 
the  day.  In  a  short  time  the  general,  who  had 
hitherto  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  invincible, 
was  doomed  to  experience  the  bitterness  of  a  defeat, 
from  which  he  was  well  aware  there  was  no  prospect 
of  recovery,  and  after  seeing  the  only  part  of  his  army 
which  offered  a  determined  resistance  cut  to  pieces 
or  dispersed,  and  his  camp  stormed  by  the  impetuous 
conquerors,  was  compelled  to  fly,  with  but  thirty 
horse,  to  Larissa*;  too  much  confounded  by  the 
greatness  of  his  misfortune  to  make  a  single  attempt 
to  rally  the  wreck  of  his  scattered  forces.  Of  an 
army  of  forty-five  thousand  combatants  which  he 
had  that  morning  arrayed  against  his  adversary, 
fifteen  thousand  were  slain,  either  during  the  conflict 
or  in  the  subsequent  pursuit,  and  more  than  twenty- 
four  thousand  taken  prisoners  ;  while  the  whole  of  the 
wealth  collected  in  his  camp,  the  baggage  of  the 
soldiers,  one  hundred  and  eighty  standards,  and  nine 
eagles  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victors,  whose  whole 
loss  did  not  amount  to  more  than  two  hundred  men. 
These  results,  however,  were  but  trivial,  compared 

since  the  Roman  calemiar  was  at  this  period  somewhat  more  than 
two  months  in  advance  of  die  real  date.  It  is  singular  that  the 
day  on  which  the  famous  battle  of  Pharsalia  was  fought  is  nscer- 
tained  only  on  slight  evidence.  — See  Fasti  Hellenici,  vol.  iii.  p.  1 98  ; 
and  Appendix,  570. 

♦  Casar,  De  Bello  Civ.  iii.  96.  t  Ibid.  99. 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


385 


with  the  more  remote  advantages  which  might  be 
expected  to  follow  so  decided.a  blow.  The  sovereignty 
of  the  whole  Roman  world  was  the  real  prize  so 
rashly  staked  and  so  cheaply  won  at  the  memorable 
conflict  of  Pharsalia. 

We  learn  from  Cicero*  that  the  first  intelligence 
of  the  overwhelming  disaster  which  had  overtaken 
the  arms  of  Pompey,  was  brought  into  the  camp  at 
Dyrrachium  by  Titus  Labienus,  who  had  been  pre- 
sent at  the  late  engagement,  and  an  eye-witness  to 
the  rout  which  he  reported.     The  news  was  speedily 
confirmed  by  a  host  of  fugitives  who  began  to  flock 
into  the  place ;  among  whom  was  the  younger  Pompey, 
with  Marcus  Cicero,  who  had  been  sent  by  his  father 
with  the  army  into  Thessaly,  and  had  been  conspicu- 
ous during  the  campaign  for  activity  and  courage. 
It  is  recorded,  that  at  a  hurried  council  of  war  held 
to  determine  upon  their  future  proceedings,  the  chief 
command  was  formally  offered  to  Cicero,  as  the  first 
among  them  in  dignity  and  age,  by  the  assembled 
officers  of  his  party,  and  that  on  his  prompt  refusal 
Pompey  and  his  friends  unsheathing  their  swords, 
and  branding  him  with  the  title  of  traitor,  would 
have  slain  him  on  the  spot  had  he  not  been  rescued 
from  their  fury  by  the  interposition  of  Catot.     His 
rejection  of  an  appointment  so  fraught  with  danger  to 
himself,  and  so  evidently  useless  to  the  cause,  may  easily 
be  believed,  and  certainly  cannot  but  be  considered  as 
reflecting  credit  upon  his  discretion.  The  hurried  con- 
sultation at  which  it  might  have  been   pronounced 
ended  in  no  other   resolution  but    that  of  an  im- 
mediate embarkation  for  Italy,   which   took    place 
under    convoy    of    a    Rhodian   squadron,    amidst 

*  See  De  Divinatione,  i.  32,  where  the  circumstance  is  man^ 
tioned  by  Quintus  Cicero,  in  confirmation  of  a  curious  instance  of 
presentiment. 

t  Plutarch,  in  Cio. 

C  C 


386 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


general  confusion;  the  roads  from  the   encampment 
beinty    covered    with   immense    quantities   of    corn 
thrown    out    from    the     granaries,    to    prevent   its 
being  of  ^se  to  the  enemy,  and  the  sea  reddened  with 
the  flames  of  a  numerous  fleet  of  transports  which  had 
been  set  on  fire  by  the  retreating  soldiery.    The  fleet 
at  first  stood  over  to  Corcyra,  where  Cato  being  re- 
solved to  sail  for  Africa,  gave  to  all  who  chose  to 
withdraw  and  submit  themselves  to  Caesar  a  free  op- 
portunity for  retiring.  This  he  again  offered  at  Patrae, 
in  the  gulf  of  Corinth,  whither,  after  the  desertion  of 
the  Rhodian  vessels,  he  directed  his  diminished  fleet. 
An  almost  general  break  up  of  thePompeian  party  was 
the  consequence ;  and  among  the  numbers  who  preferred 
the'chance  of  a  reconciliation  with  Caesar  to  the  more 
threatening  perils  of  the  war  into  which  Cato  was 
hastening,  with  the  calm  and  settled  resolution  of  not 
surviving  its  unsuccessful  termination,  was  Cicero, 
who,    after  taking  at   Corcyra  a   farewell,  destined 
to   be   final,    of    his   more    determined   friend   and 
companion,  directed  his  course  towards  Brundusium. 
Here  he  resolved  to  await  the  return  of  Caesar  to 
Italy,  hopeless  of  a  favourable  result  to  any  attempt 
to  revive  the  sinking  liberties  of  his  country,  and 
almost  reconciled,  by  the  scene  he  had  lately  wit- 
nessed, to  any  settled  form  of  government,  which  should 
supersede  the  horrors  of  civil  bloodshed,  and  put  a 
stop  to  the  miseries,  compared  with  which  t  le  exer* 
cise  of  despotism  itself  seemed  a  less  formidable  evil. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICfiRO. 


387 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Cicero  receives  News  of  the  Death  of  Pompey — The  Party  of  the 
Senate  revives — Cato  and  Labienus  in  Africa — Regret  of  Cicero 
on  Account  of  his  late  Policy — He  is  commanded  by  Antony  to 
leave  Italy — Conduct  of  Quintus  Cicero — Arrival  of  Caesar  at 
Brundusium — Cicero  sets  out  to  meet  him — His  Reception 
— He  returns  to  Rome — Cae-ar  sets  out  for  Africa — Treatises 
**  De  Partitioue  Oratoric^"  and  **  De  Claris  Oratoribus" — 
Cicero  divorces  Terentia,  and  marries  his  second  Wife  Publilia — 
Triumph  of  Caesar — His  absolute  Authority — Cicero  composes 
his  "  Cato,"  which  is  answered  by  Caesar — And  his  **  Orator" — 
Orations  for  Marcellus  and  Ligarius — Death  of  Tullia — Cicero 
retires  to  Astura — Letter  of  Servius  Sulpicius — Literary  Occu- 
pations of  Cicero — He  composes  his  Hortensius,  Academics,  and 
Tusculan  Disputations — He  divorces  Publilia — Caesar  returns 
from  his  Expedition  to  Spain — Speech  for  Deiotarus — Visit  of 
Caesar  to  Cicero — Consulate  of  Caninius  Rebilus. 

Almost  the  first  intelligence  which  picero  received 
at  Brundusium  was  the  news  of  the  assassination  of 
Pompey  nn  Egypt.  His  lament  on  the  occasion  was 
briefly  pronounced.  "  I  never  entertained  any  doubt 
respecting  the  death  of  Pompey.  For  so  general 
was  the  opinion  of  the  desperate  nature  of  his  cause 
among  all  princes  and  people,  that  I  imagined 
wherever  he  directed  his  flight,  this  must  necessarily 
be  the  result.  Yet  I  cannot  but  grieve  at  his  fate. 
For  I  knew  him  to  be  an  individual  of  dignity,  tem- 
perance, and  integrity*."  Such,  after  all  but  deifying 
him  in  his  orations,  and  expressing  in  his  epistles  the 
truest  and  most  faithful  attachment  to  his  person,  was 
the  cold  and  formal  comment  pronounced  by  his 
once  enthusiastic  panegyrist  upon  the  imtimely  end 
of  the  conqueror  of  Mithridates.  The  perplexity  and 
distress  of  mind,  however,  under  which  Cicero  wai 
labouring  at  the  time,  might,  perhaps,  be  pleaded  as 


*  Ad  Attic,  xi.  6. 


c  c2 


3d8  THE   LIFE  OF  CICERO. 

some  excuse  for  his  dwelling  so  briefly  upon  the 
calamities  of  others.     He  had  no  sooner  set  foot  on 
the  Italian  coast,  than  he  began  to  repent  of  his  late 
determination  of  abandoning  the  relics  of  the  party 
of  Pompey,  before  he  had  received  an  assurance  of 
being  again  received  into  the  favour  of  Caesar.     It 
was^speedily  known,  moreover,  that  the  whole  pro- 
vince of  Africa  was  now  entirely  at  the  disposal  of 
the  representatives  of  the  senate.    The  defeat,  on  the 
part  of  Juba  king  of  Mauritania,  of  Curio  the  lieu- 
tenant of  Caesar,  and  former  correspondent  of  Cicero, 
by  which  a  powerful  force  w^as  completely  annihi- 
lated, and  their  leader  driven  to  suicide,  had  previ- 
ously given  some  relief  in  that  quarter  to  the  long 
series  of  reverses  which  had  hitherto  attended  the 
constitutional   cause.      This    was   followed   by   the 
arrival  at  Utica  of  Scipio  and  Labienus  at  the  head 
of  the  wrecks  of  the  army  of  Pharsalia,  and  soon 
afterwards  by  that  of  Cato  with  his  devoted  band,  after 
a  march  through  the  sands  of  the  desert  of  Barca, 
undertaken  with  singular  daring,  and  executed  with 
unshaken  resolution.     By  the  exertions  of  these  and 
other  officers  of  rank,  a  formidable  host  was  once 
more  drawn  together,  and  thoroughly  equipped  for 
service ;  and  since  Caesar  was  known  to  be  engaged 
in  a  difficult  and  dangerous  conflict  with  Ptolemy, 
king  of  Egypt,  which  held  out  little  promise  of  an 
early  termination,  it  was  fully  expected  that  Italy 
would  be  immediately  invaded,  and  possibly  overrun 
by  his  adversaries  before  he  could  return  to  its  rescue. 
While,  therefore,  there  was  a  reasonable  prospect  that 
the  cause  he  had  abandoned  as  hopeless,  might,  after 
so  singular  and  unexpected  a  revival,  even  prove 
victorious  in  the  end,   Cicero,   with  his  keen   sus- 
•ceptibility  to  censure,  was  doomed  to  hear  nothing 
but  severe  comments  upon  his  whole  conduct  during 
the  war,  and  the  opinion  openly  expressed,  that  he 


i 


t 


THE  LIFE   OF   CICERO.  389 

would  have  much  better  consulted  his  reputation  by 
assisting  with  his  counsels  in  the  deliberations  of  the 
senate  at  Utica,     With  a  vanity  singularly  consist- 
ent with  his  former  exhibitions  of  the  same  weak- 
ness, he  still  retained  about  him  the  appendages  of 
his   proconsular   dignity,   although   there   was   the 
greatest  danger  of  exciting  by  this  means  the  resent- 
ment and  jealousy  of  the  soldiers  in  the  service  of 
Caesar ;  of  whose  violence  he  was  under  such  serious 
apprehensions  when  approaching  Brundusium,  as  to 
be  induced  to  command  his  lictors  to  lay  aside  their 
axes  and  mingle  with  the  crowd  *.     Yet  the  desire 
of  retaining  these  evidences  of  his  pretensions  to  dis- 
tinction to  the  last,  seems  to  have  determined  him  to 
decline   the   advice   of  Atticus,   recommending   his 
return  to  Romet,  where  he  would  have  been  better 
able  to  ensure  the  interference  of  the  friends  of  Caesar 
in  his  favour,  an  object  to  which  he  was  now  devot- 
ing himself  with  the  greatest  earnestness.     Even  his 
stay  in  Apulia,  however,  was  not  ensured  without 
an  unpleasant  sacrifice  of  the  character  of  neutrality, 
which  he  at  present  wished  to  assume.   On  the  arrival 
of  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Pharsalia  at  Rome,  the 
citizens  having  shown  their  exultation  at  the  event 
by  tearing  down  the  statues  of  Sylla  and  Pompey, 
proceeded  tumultuously  to  pass  a  series  of  laws  con- 
ferring the  most  extravagant  powers  upon  the  com- 
mander, Avho,  by  his  recent  successes,  had  now  be- 
come the  popular  idol.     He  was  declared  consul  for 
five  years  in  succession,  and  dictator  for  the  year 
next  ensuing.     The  power  of  making  peace  or  war 
was  unreservedly  entrusted  to  his  hands,  as  well  as 
the  right  of  presiding  at  the  general  assemblies;  while 
his  person  was  rendered  sacred  by  the  additional 
dignity  of  the  tribunitial  office  for  life.  These  honours 

*  Ad  Attic,  xi.  6.  t  Propius  accedere  ut  voles 

quomodo  sine  lectoribus  quos  populus  dedit  possum  ?— Ibid. 


390 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


were  willingly  accepted  by  Caesar,  who  was  made  ac- 
quainted while  in  Egypt  with  the  decrees  of  the  people 
in  his  favour.      His  first  exercise  of  his  authority  was 
to  create  Antony  his  master  of  the  horse,  and  to  this 
able  functionary,  who  was  carefully  guarding  Italy,  in 
which  he  had  established  an  entirely  military  govern- 
ment, he  at  the  same  time  sent  orders,  under  the 
impression  that  Cato  and  Metellus,  with  other  mem- 
bers of  the  same  party,  had  retired  in  that  direction, 
to  suffer  no  one  to  land  on  any  part  of  the  coast  with- 
out his  especial  permission.     In  consequence  of  this 
command,  Antony  was  compelled  to  write  to  Cicero, 
inclosing  a  copy  of  the  letter  of  Caesar,  and  entreating 
him  to  retire  without  delay  from  Brundusium,  using 
many  expressions  of  civility,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
assuring  him,  that  his  instructions  were  unconditional 
and  imperative*.     Cicero,  in  answer,  despatched  his 
friend  Lucius  Lamia  to  represent  that  Caesar  had 
expressly  desired  Dolabella  to  write  to  him,  advis- 
ing his  return  to  Italy,  and  Antony  was  so  far  con- 
vinced of  the  truth  of  the  assertion,  as  to  exempt  him 
by  name  from  the  restrictive  edict  which  he  forth- 
with published:—"  Which,"  observes  Cicero,  "I  was 
exceedingly  unwilling  that  he  should  do,   for  the 
same  object  might  have  been  effected  equally  well 
without  the  express  mention  of  any  individual  t.'* 
And  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  had  good  reason  for 
his  reluctance  to  the  straightforward  proceeding  of 
Antony.     Such  an  especial  notice  might  hereafter  be 
interpreted  as  an  open  declaration  of  his  intimacy 
with  the  prevailing  party,  and  be  made  use  of  as 
evidence,  greatly  to  his  disadvantage,  if  any  unfore- 
seen circumstances  should,  at  a  future  time,  place  the 
fortune  of  the  senate  upon  the  ascendant,  and  reverse 
the  positions  at  present  respectively  held  by  its  friends 
and  enemies. 


*  Ad  AttiQ.  xi,  7, 


t  lUU, 


THE    LIFE   OF  CICERO. 


391 


His  domestic  affairs  and  connexions  were  causes 
of  little  less  anxiety  than  the  political  course  he  had 
lately  been  pursuing.      His  son-in-law  Dolabella, 
greatly  to  his  dissatisfaction,  was  distinguishing  him- 
self at    Rome   by  the   most   violent  conduct ;   and 
having  followed  the  example  of  the  notorious  Clo- 
dius  in  passing,  by  the  ceremony  of  adoption,  from  a 
patrician  to  a  plebeian  family,  in  order  to  obtain  the 
tribuneship,  was  paying  his  court  to  the  populace 
by  the  ordinary  method  of  proposing  and  urgmg 
forward  a  general  act  of  insolvency  in  the  midst  of 
tumult  and  bloodshed.     The  conduct  of  Dolabella  to 
his  wife  was,  at  the  same  time,  fast  hastening  on 
the  divorce  which  took  place  shortly  afterwards  with 
the  consent  of  both  parties.     Besides  allowing  her, 
after  receiving  in  two  instalments  from  Cicero  the 
greater  part  of  a  considerable  portion  which  con- 
stituted her  dowry,  to  suffer  considerable  privations, 
the  consequences  of  his  profusion  and  extravagance, 
he  had  added  the  severest  slis;ht  which  it  was  pos- 
sible for  him  to  inflict,  by  his  open  connexion  with 
Metella,  the  wife  of  Lentulus,  and  was,  notwith- 
standing, expecting  from  his  father-in-law  who  was 
at  the  time  no  stranger  to  pecuniary  difficulties   , 
the  remainder  of  her  marriage  portion.     The  health 
of  Tullia  was  also  beginning  visibly  to  decline,  and 
her  meeting  with  her  father,    some    months   after 
his  arrival  in  Italy  t,  from  this,  as  well  as  from  other 
causes,  appears  but  to  have  contributed  to  the  dis- 
tress of  both.     To  these  sources  of  uneasiness  was 
added  the  real  or  apparent  indifference  of  Terentia 
to  the  welfare  of  her  husband,  and  her  neglecting 
to  visit  him  during  the  whole  time  of  his  stay  at 

;    *  Ad  Attic,  xi.  25.  7^- 

t  This  meeting  took  place  at  Brundusium,  June  1  J,  a.u-c.  /u/. 
(Ad  Attic,  xi.  1 7.)  Tullia  mea  ad  me  venit  piidie  ldu8  JHniaiJ.— 
See  also,  Ad  Diversos,  xiv.  17. 


392 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICEHO. 


Brundiisium,  as  well  as  the  conduct  of  his  brothei 
Quintus,  from  whom  he  now  suffered  the  afflictior^ 
of  a  serious  estrangement.    Quintus  Cicero,  instead 
of  returning  into   Italy  after  the   battle  of  Phar- 
salia,  had  preferred  remaining  at  Patrae  in  Achaia, 
where,  in  his  disgust  at  the  unsuccessful  issue  of  the 
war  and  apprehension  of  its  probable  consequences 
to  himself,  he  constantly  indulged  in  bitter  invectives 
ao-ainst  the  relative  by  whose  advice  he  had  been 
principally  induced  to  side  with  the  party  of  Pompey ; 
which  were  daily  conveyed  to  the  ears  of  the  party 
against  whom  they  were  directed,  by  the  usual  chan- 
nel of  common  friends.     Not  satisfied  with  this  de- 
monstration of  estrangement,  he  even  sent  forward  his 
son  toEphesus,  to  meet  Caesar  on  his  return  from  Alex- 
andria, charged  with  letters  exculpatory  of  his  own 
conduct  and  full  of  representations  to  the  disadvantage 
of  his  brother  Marcus.     The  younger  Quintus  was 
no  less  violent  in  his  abuse  of  his  uncle,  and  it  was 
evident  that  both  himself  and  his  father,  by  repre- 
senting Cicero  as  their  chief  adviser,   intended  to 
make  the  sacrifice  of  his  credit  with  the  victor,  the 
means  of  establishing  their  owti*.     It  had  been  well 
for  the  reputation  of  all  parties  mentioned  in  it,  and 
no  less  for  that  of  its  author,  if  most  of  the  corres- 
pondence with  Atticus,  during  the  years  a.u.c.  706 
and  707,  had  perished ;  so  striking  are  the  pictures 
contained  in  it  of  the  weakness,  timidity,  and  irre- 
solution, as  well  as  the  general  selfishness,  induced 

*  Ad  Attic,  xi.  10. — in  which  he  states,  that  his  fricixl  Te- 
rentius  had  seen  Quintus  Cicero  the  younger  at  Ephcsus,  when 
the  latter  had  shown  him  a  long  oration  which  he  was  prepaiing  to 
deliver  against  his  uncle,  in  the  presence  of  Caesar.  Cicero  had  the 
more  reason  to  complain  of  this  conduct,  as  he  had  written  to 
Caesar  a  short  time  before  expi-essly  to  exculpate  the  elder  Quintus 
from  the  clui-ge  of  having  in  any  measure  contributed  to  his  uniting 
himself  with  the  party  of  Pompey.  This  letter  he  quotes  verba- 
tim, Ad  Attic,  xi.  12. 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


393 


by  the  distracted  character  of  the  times.     Almost 
every  page  is  pregnant  with  apprehensions  and  re- 
grets, with  the  morbid  repinings  and  useless  laments 
of  Cicero  over  his  imprudence  in  bringing  himself 
into  a  situation  in  which,  to  use  his  own  words,  no- 
thing but  the  success  of  a  cause  to  which  he  had 
always  been  averse  could  prove  of  service  to  his  inte- 
rests. Neither  the  constant  assurances  of  the  friends  of 
Ceesar,  nor  the  numerous  recent  instances  of  clemency 
on  the  part  of  that  leader,  nor  even  the  circumstance 
of  his  having  forwarded  the  late  letter  of  Quintus 
Cicero  to  Rome,  with  express  directions  that  it  should 
be  shown  to  the  person  it  was  meant  to  injure,  proved 
sufficient  to  relieve  the  disquietude  of  mind  under 
which  he  continued  to  labour;  finding  a  fresh  cause 
for  alarm  in  every  new  rumour,  and  looking  with 
suspicion  on  each  instance  of  forbearance  towards  the 
members  of  his  party  as  an  additional  proof  of  some 
ulterior  design  against  them,  which,  at  present,  it 
was  not  thought  prudent  to  reveal*. 

He  w^as  at  length  relieved  from  this  state  of  un- 
certainty and  dread  by  a  letter  from  C^sar  himself, 
containing  the  most  friendly  expressions  t,  and  even 

•  Among  the  letters  written  from  Brundusium  is  one  to  the 
cclcbi-ated  Caius  Cassius,  (Ad  Diversos,  xv.  15.)  requesting  his  ad- 
vice and  opinion  as  to  the  writer's  present  condition,  and  claiming  the 
merit  of  a  common  policy  with  him  in  his  late  resolution  of  aban- 
donin<T  further  resistance.  The  place  assigned  to  this  letter  by  the  ar- 
rangement of  SchUtz  is  between  Ad  Attic,  xi.24  and  Ad  Attic.xi.20. 
Cassius  had  been  appointed  by  Pompey  to  command  a  considerable 
fleet  of  Svrian  and  Phoenician  vessels,  which  he  afterwards  surren- 
dered to  Caesar,  in  the  mouth  of  the  Cydnus,  where  he  had  stationed 
his  squadron  in  the  hope  of  finding  an  opportunity  of  assassinating 
the  latter,  on  his  arrival  in  the  river.  His  sudden  submission, 
instead  of  following  out  this  design,  naturally  brought  upon  him  the 
chai-ge  of  treachery  and  cowardice  from  his  own  party. 

t  Redditse  mihi  tandem  sunt  a  Caesare  literae  satis  liberales ;  et 
ipse  opinione  celerius  venturus  esse  dicitur.— Ad  Diversos,  xiv.  23. 
The  following  inscription  is  given  by  Fabricius,  Antiq.  Mon,,  lib. 
iii  and  asserted  to  have  been  found  at  Viterbo,  in  Etruria  :— 
C' Julius  Casar,  M.  Tulliura  Ciceronem,  ob  egregias  ejus  virtutes^ 


394  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

allowing  him   still  to  exhibit  those  coveted  ensigns 
of  dignity — his  laurelled  fasces  and  proconsular  reti- 
nue— for  as  long  a  time  as  he  should  deem  it  expe- 
dient to  retain  them.     A  personal  interview  shortly 
afterwards  completed  the  reconciliation  thus  begun. 
After  finishing  the  Alexandrine  war,  and  dissipating, 
in  a  brief  summer  campaign  of  five  days'  continuance, 
the   formidable  rebellion   of  Phamaces  of  Pontus, 
Caesar  suddenly  landed  in  the  month  of  September, 
A.u.c.  707,  at  Tarentum ;  deceiving,  in  the  quick- 
ness of  his  return,  the  expectations  both  of  friends 
and  enemies.     On  the  news  of  his  approach  towards 
Brundusium,  Cicero,  who  had  at  first  intended  to  send 
forward  his  son,  in  company  with  Cneius  Sallustius, 
to  meet  him,  at  length  summoned  courage  enough  to  set 
out  for  that  purpose  in  person.  He  has  not  himself  left 
any  particular  account  of  the  manner  in  which  he  was 
received,  but  the  deficiency  is  supplied  by  Plutarch ; 
who  states,  that  altliough  he  commenced  his  journey 
with  some  shame  and  reluctance  at  the  thought  of  try- 
ing how  he  stood  in  the  opinion  of  a  victorious  enemy, 
before  so  many  witnesses,  he  soon  discovered  that  he 
had  no  occasion  to  say  or  do  anything  beneath  his 
dignity.     Caesar,  writes  the  same  historian,  no  sooner 
saw  him   at  some  considerable  distance  advancing 
before  the  rest,  than  he  dismounted  and  ran  to  em- 
brace him,  after  which  he  went  on  discoursing  with 
him  alone  for  many  furlongs*.     The  result  of  this 
conference  seems  to  have  been  his  immediate  return 
towards  Rome,  amidst  the  splendid  train  collected, 
during  his  progress,  about  the  returning  dictator; 
since,  on  the  first  day  of  October,  he  writes  to  Te- 
rentia  from  Venusium,  informing  her  of  his  intention 
of  being  at  his  Tusculan  villa  by  the  seventh  or  eighth 
day  of  the  month,  and  requesting  her  to  see  that  his 

singularce  aninii  dotes  per  totum  orbem,  nostris  armU  virtute  que 
perdoraitum  salvura  et  incolumem  esse  jubemus. 

•  Plutarch's  Life  of  Cicero — Langhomc's  translation. 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO.  395 

baths  are  in  proper  order,  and  every  preparation 
made  for  the  accommodation  of  a  numerous  company 
of  guests  *.  The  stay  of  Caesar  in  the  capital  was  of 
no  long  continuance,  since  the  African  war  almost 
immediately  summoned  him  to  a  new  scene  of  action. 
Remaining  in  the  capital,  therefore,  only  long  enough 
to  appoint  Marcus  Brutus,  although  a  short  time 
before  in  arms  against  him  at  Pharsalia,  to  the 
government  of  Cisalpine  Gaul — to  invest  Servius 
Sulpicius  with  that  of  Achaiat — and  to  make  such 
arrangements  as  seemed  necessary  for  ensuring  the 
peace  of  Italy  during  his  absence,  he  completed  his 
preparations  for  the  approaching  campaign  with  so 
much  celerity,  that  by  the  middle  of  December  he 
was  at  Lilybaeum  in  Sicily ;  with  his  tent  pitched 
upon  the  beach,  and  six  legions  encamped  around 
him,  prepared  to  embark  with  the  first  favourable 
wind.  On  the  twenty-seventh  day  of  the  same 
month  his  galleys  were  in  full  sail  for  the  coast  of 
Africa,  which  he  safely  reached  after  a  prosperous 
voyage  of  four  days'  continuance,  and  having  landed 
his  forces  without  impediment,  opened  his  memorable 
campaign  against  Scipio,  Juba,  and  the  enduring  phi- 
losopher of  Utica,  by  an  immediate  advance  upon 
the  city  of  AdrymetumJ. 

Being  now,  in  some  measure,  freed  from  the  causes 
of  disquietude  which  had  lately  absorbed  his  atten- 
tion and  weighed  heavily  upon  his  spirits,  Cicero 
devoted  the  interval  of  suspense,  during  which  Rome 
and  her  tributary  provinces  awaited  the  termination 
of  the  struggle  maintained  by  the  yet  unfailing  deter- 
mination of  her  exiled  nobility  amidst  the  burning 
and  arid  wastes  of  Zeugitana,  to  his  favourite  pur- 
suits of  literature  and  philosophy ;  occasionally,  for 
the  sake  of  greater  seclusion,,  removing  from  the 
capital  to  his  villas  in  its  vicinity.     This  opportunity 

*  Ad  Diversos,  xiv.  20.  f  Ibid  vi.  IG. 

+  Hirtius,  De  Bcllo  Afiicano,  cup.  iii. 


396 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


397 


of  retirement  and  study  produced  his  two  trea- 
tises, "  De  Partitione  Oratorica"  and  "De  Claris  Ora- 
toribus ;"  the  first  a  clear  and  well-digested,  though 
somewhat  formal,  dialogue  between  himself  and  his 
son  Marcus,  for  whose  use  it  was  chiefly  intended ;  and 
the  second  an  invaluable  comment  upon  the  charac- 
ters and  excellences  of  the  chief  Greek  and  Roman 
orators,  intended  as  a  supplementary  book  to  his 
former  work  "  De  Oratore."  This  dialogue  is  also 
known  by  the  name  of  Brutus,  from  the  circum- 
stance of  that  distinguished  personage  being  one  of 
the  speakers  introduced  in  it.  Its  various  merits 
both  of  thought  and  expression — its  eloquent,  al- 
though half-suppressed,  laments  over  the  ruined  con- 
dition of  the  republic — its  delicate,  impartial,  and 
well-deserved  criticism  upon  the  oratory  and  writings 
of  Caesar — and,  above  all,  the  many  curious  particu- 
lars to  be  obtained  from  this  source  alone  respecting 
the  great  worthies  of  the  Roman  bar,  must  always 
ensure  for  it  a  high  place  in  the  regards  of  the  stu- 
dent either  of  classic  or  of  general  literature. 

His  divorce  from  Terentia  occurred  in  the  midst 
of  these  intellectual  occupations.  The  cause  wliich 
he  alleged  for  the  separation  was,  the  neglect  she  had 
shown  towards  him  during  his  continuance  in  Greece 
and  at  Brundusium,  and  her  general  inattention  to 
the  management  of  his  pecuniary  affairs.  This, 
however,  was,  in  all  probability,  but  a  pretext  for  a 
step  which  had  been  meditated  long  before.  The 
temper  of  Terentia,  at  all  times  haughty  and  impe- 
rious, was  not  likely  to  have  lost  anything  of  its 
original  asperity  with  the  increase  of  years  ;  and 
Cicero,  with  all  his  merits  and  general  amiability  of 
disposition,  appears  to  have  possessed  that  nervous 
and  querulous  temperament,  which  has  sometimes  a 
more  irritating  effect  upon  those  who  are  in  the  daily 
habit  of  encountering  it,  than  much  greater  faults  of 
character.     His  conduct  in  thus  parting,  in  the  de- 


ina 


clineof  life*,  from  one  to  whom  he  had  so  long  been 
united,  on  such  trifling  grounds  of  complaint,  and 
with  such  little  compunction,  was  the  subject  of  gene- 
ral censure ;  which  was  anything  but  lessened  by  his 
marriage  shortly  afterwards  with  Publilia— a  young, 
beautiful  and  wealthy  heiress  towards  whom  he  had 
been  appointed  to  act  in  the  capacity  of  guardian.  His 
new  connexion,  however,  into  which  he  is  supposed 
to    have  been   principally  drawn   by  the   dazzling 
inducement  offered  by  the  fortune  of  Publilia,  proved, 
as  might  have  been  anticipated,  but  a  source  of  un- 
happiness,  and  was  but  of  brief  continuance.     Te- 
rentia, for  whom  the  sympathy  of  her  age  might 
naturally  have  been  excited,  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  greatly  afflicted  by  the  event ;  since  she  was 
afterwards  successively  married  to  Sallust  the  histo- 
rian,   Messala  Corvinus,    and   Vibius    Rufus,   and 
attained  the  advanced  age  of  one  hundred  and  three 
years.     Her  last  husband  is  said  to  have  proposed  for 
her  hand  from  a  simple  love  of  curiosities,  and  to  have 
boasted,  after  obtaining  it,  that  he  now  possessed  two 
things  which  had  belonged  to  the  two  greatest  men  of 
the  age  before  him— the  wife  of  Cicero  and  the  chair 
in  which  Csesar  was  slain. 

By  the  beginning  of  summer  Caesar  had  finished 
his  African  expedition.  The  battle  of  Thapsus  had 
at  one  blow  completely  paralysed  the  republic  in 
that  quarter.  Utica  had  surrendered,  drawing  after 
it  the  whole  of  the  adjacent  province.  Numidia  had 
given  in  its  submission,  and  the  great  leaders  of  the 
army  of  the  senate,  Cato,  Petreius,  Scipio,  Afranius, 
and  Juba,  had  severally  fallen  by  their  own  swords 
or  by  those  of  the  victors.  The  subjugation  of  Spain 
alone  remained,  w^here  the  emissaries  of  the  two  sons 
of  Pompey  were  exerting  themselves  to  excite  a 
general  revolt,  and  had  already  enlisted  a  consider- 
^~  •"Cicero  was  at  this  time  in  the  sixty-first  year  of  his  age. 


393 


THE  LIFE  OP  CICERO. 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


399 


able  force  for  the  support  of  their  enterprise.  But, 
before  transferring  his  conquering  arms  to  a  new  field 
of  operations,  Caesar  again  returned  to  Rome,  to  enjoy 
the  fruits  of  his  late  conquests,  and  to  receive  the 
flattery  of  his  countrymen  in  the  shape  of  fresh  and  un- 
precedented honours.  His  dictatorship  was  extended 
for  ten  years.  He  was  declared  magister  morum^  or 
master  of  the  morals  of  the  people, — a  title  hitherto 
unknown.  Four  different  triumphs  were  granted 
him  within  a  month,  for  his  successes  in  Gaul,  Egypt, 
Pontus,  and  Africa, — in  which  he  had  the  presump- 
tion to  exhibit  the  effigies  of  several  of  the  noblest 
senators  who  had  fallen  in  opposing  him ;  and,  to 
crown  the  whole,  a  gilded  car  was  placed  near  the 
image  of  Jupiter  in  the  capitol,  in  which  was  erected 
his  statue,  standing  upon  a  globe,  with  an  inscrip- 
tion adding  the  appellation  of  demigod  to  his  name*. 
Thus  tempted  by  the  abject  submission  of  a  people 
who  were  rushing  headlong  into  slavery,  he  entered 
at  once  upon  the  full  exercise  of  despotic  authority — 
the  crime  less  of  the  individual  than  of  the  commu- 
nity— of  the  one  who  exercises,  than  of  the  many 
who  provoke  and  endure  it.  Without  even  using 
the  outward  formality  of  consulting  the  senate  upon 
any  of  the  foreign  relations  of  the  state,  he  took  upon 
himself  the  whole  management  of  this  branch  of  the 
government — concluding  treaties, — entering  into  alli- 
ances,—and  imposing  tributes,  with  reference  to  no- 
thing but  his  own  sovereign  will  and  discretion.  He 
even  (with  a  reliance  upon  their  passive  acquiescence 
which  nothing  but  the  most  contemptuous  opinion  of 
their  spirit  and  condition  could  have  justified)  trans- 
mitted to  distant  nations  decrees  ostensibly  passed 
by  their  consent,  but  with  the  nature  of  which 
they  were  utterly  unacquainted.  "Do  you  think," 
inquires    Cicero,    in  a  letter   to    Papirius   Paetust, 


«na 


Dio,  xlvi. 


t  Ad  Di versos,  ix.  15. 


"  that  the  decrees  of  the  senate  would  be  fewer  if  I 
were  at  Naples  ?  Even  while  I  am  at  Rome,  and 
in  close  attendance  upon  the  forum,  these  edicts  are 
drawn  up  in  the  house  of  our  friend.  "W  hen,  indeed, 
it  enters  his  head,  niy  name  is  set  down  as  if  con- 
cerned in  preparing  them,  and  I  was  informed  some  time 
ago  that  a  decree  was  carried  into  Syria  and  Arme- 
nia of  which  I  was  said  to  be  the  proposer,  when  no 
mention  of  the  subject  had  ever  been  heard  at  Rome. 
Think  not  that  I  am  in  jest  in  making  this  repre- 
sentation. Letters  have  been  brought  to  me  from 
princes  living  in  the  remotest  parts  of  the  earth, 
expressing  their  gratitude  towards  me  for  procuring 
for  them  the  confirmation  of  their  titles  from  the 
senate  and  the  people ;  whereas  I  was  at  the  time 
ignorant,  not  only  that  they  had  been  saluted  kings, 
but  even  that  they  had  ever  had  an  existence." 

His  confidence  in  his  own  security  was,  however,  not 
without  its  good  effect  in  allowing  Caesar  to  lay  aside 
much  of  that  jealousy  which  is  unavoidably  atten- 
dant upon  authority,  when  its  possessor  is  anxious  of 
holding  it  upon  any  uncertain  tenure ;  and  having 
fully  satisfied  himself  that  he  had  obtained  a  firm 
hold  of  the  substance  of  power,  he  was  the  less 
anxious  respecting  its  outward  appendages,  in  the 
shape  of  perfect  respect  to  his  person  or  opinions. 
It  was,  indeed,  part  of  the  consummate  policy  of  this 
able  usurper,  while  attacking  by  every  description 
both  of  force  and  stratagem  the  very  citadel  of  free- 
dom, to  leave  for  some  time  its  mere  external  defences 
to  all  appearance  unimpared.  This  was  sufficiently 
shown  when  Cicero,  after  the  death  of  the  great 
upholder  of  the  quarrel  of  the  republic  at  Utica, 
(whose  end  every  reader  of  his  works  must  smile  at 
finding  him  propose  to  himself  the  possibility  of  his 
imitating,  at  a  fitting  time  and  opportunity*,)  pro- 

♦  Caeteri  quidem,  Poinpeius,  Lentulus,  tuus  Scipio,  Afixinius,  foede 


400  THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

duced  his  elaborate  and  unfortunately  long-lost 
"  Cato" — a  carefully  wrought  eulogium  upon  the 
virtues  and  conduct  of  the  unyielding  patriot  whose 
name  it  bore.  The  performance  was  not  only  re- 
ceived without  resentment,  but  even  with  complaisance, 
by  the  dictator,  who,  perhaps  not  unwilling  to  show 
his  power  of  encountering  the  first  writer  of  his  age 
with  his  own  weapons,  proposed  to  himself  the  task 
of  answering  it;  which  he  afterwards  accomplished  in 
his  work  called  "  Anti-Cato."  From  the  little  we 
know  of  the  character  of  this  much-regretted  treatise, 
the  invective  to  which  it  was  devoted,  besides  being 
necessarily  rendered  revolting  by  assailing  an  enemy 
no  longer  in  existence,  seems  not  to  have  been  desti- 
tute of  the  coarseness  and  violence  which  distinguished 
all  similar  productions  of  that  period*.  It  seems, 
however,  at  the  same  time,  to  have  contained  passages 
of  delicate  and  elegant  compliment  to  the  living, 
which  showed  that  its  author  was  capable  of  attaining 
to  a  politeness  and  forbearance  in  controversy,  which 
few  who  had  once  entered  upon  such  a  dispute  would 
haVe  been  inclined  to  show  to  the  panegyrist  of  a 
deceased  adversary,  when  his  life  and  fortunes  were 
entirely  at  tlieir  disposal. 

Cicero  was  mentioned  throughout  the  production 
in  terms  of  the  greatest  respect  by  his  imperial  oppo- 
nent,  and   likened,  with   many   eulogies   upon   his 

perierint.  At  Cato  praeclar^.  Jam  istuc  quidem  cum  volumus 
licebit. — Ad  Diveraus,  ix.  18. 

*  Plutarch  mentions  that  one  of  the  extravagant  and  absurd 
accusations  brought  against  Cato  by  Caesar  set  forth,  that  from  a 
feeling  of  avarice  he  had  passed  the  ashes  of  his  brother  Csepio,  to 
vhom  he  was  tenderly  attached,  through  a  sieve,  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  any  melted  gold  which  might  have  been  mixed  with 
them.  The  other  charges  probably  partook  largely  of  the  same 
character.  The  **  Anti-Cato"  seems  to  have  been  written  in  two 
books,  as  we  gather  from  various  passages  in  ancient  authors.  It 
was,  however,  not  published  until  just  before  the  return  of  Caesar 
from  his  Spanish  campaign. 


THE   LIFE    OF   CICERO.  401 

actions  as  well  as  his  abilities,  to  Pericles  and  Thera- 
menes  of  Athens.  The  latter  compliment  seems  to 
have  been  the  dictate  rather  of  the  political  than  of 
the  literary  judgment  of  Caesar,  since  he  could  have 
seen  but  little  in  common  between  the  rich  and 
exuberant  genius  of  the  Koman  orator  and  the  simple 
nervousness  and  concentrated  energy  of  the  two 
great  luminaries  of  the  Attic  assemblies,  to  whom  he 
was  thus  compared*.  At  the  same  time  it  deserves 
also  to  be  recorded,  as  a  further  proof  of  the  desire 
of  the  conqueror  to  conciliate  those  lately  opposed  to 
him,  that  although  Cicero,  who  seems  to  have  been 
always  better  able  to  modify  his  conduct  than  his 
conversation  to  existing  circumstances,  had  ventured 
upon  some  of  his  trenchant  jests  and  sarcasms  respect- 
ing the  present  condition  of  the  state,  in  addition  to 
indulging  in  a  general  freedom  of  discourse,  which 
induced  his  friends  seriously  to  warn  him  of  the  pro- 
bable consequences  t,  no  signs  of  disapprobation  were 
shown  towards  him  byCsesar;  who  being  at  the  time, 
amidst  other  more  important  occupations,  busily 
employed  in  making  a  compilation  of  facetiae  and 
apophthegms,  was  systematically  acquainted  with 
every  fresh  witticism  uttered  at  Rome,  and  had 
already  inserted  many  of  Cicero*s  best  known  sayings 
in  the  collection. 

To  the  "  Cato  "  succeeded  the  "  Orator  "  or  treatise 
on  perfect  oratory  J,  dedicated  also  to  Marcus  Brutus, 
and  a  worthy  conclusion  to  the  preceding  series  of 

*  The  character  of  the  oratory  of  Theramenes,  although  noue  of 
his  works  were  extant  in  the  time  of  Cicero,  may  be  inferred  from 
De  Oratore,  ii.  22. — Consecnti  ?unt  hos  Critias,  Theramenes, 
Lysias — Oranes  etiam  tum  retinebant  ilium  Periclis  succum  ;  sed 
erant  paulo  uberiore  filo.  The  foundation  of  the  more  ornamental 
and  more  truly  rhetorical  school  is  attributed  to  Isocratcs. 

•f-  Ad  Diversos,  ix.  16. 

J  Itaque  hoc  sum  aggrcssus  statim  "Catone"  absoluto.— 
Orator,  c;ip.  x. 


402 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


works  upon  the  same  subject.  As  the  rules  of  all 
art  are  of  universal  application,  this  masterly  per- 
formance, and  indeed  the  whole  of  the  rhetorical  dis- 
quisitions of  which  it  forms  a  portion,  may  be  safely 
considered  to  the  present  hour  the  best  and  surest 
guide  to  excellence,  which  those  ambitious  of  mov- 
ing the  passions  of  their  fellow  men  by  eloquence, 
aspiring  to  a  character  above  that  of  mere  declama- 
tion, could  select  for  their  direction. 

To  enter  into  a  detailed  examination  of  their 
merits,  besides  requiring  a  space  far  more  consider- 
able than  could  be  allotted  to  the  purpose  in  the 
present  work,  would  demand  higher  powers  of  criti- 
cism than  any  to  which  a  simple  narrator  of  facts 
dares  to  pretend.  Their  due  appreciation,  moreover, 
can  be  reached  alone  by  the  study  of  the  noble  tongue 
in  which  they  were  originally  written.  For  although 
some  general  idea  might  be  formed,  through  the 
medium  of  translation,  of  the  nature  and  arrange- 
ment of  the  subjects  of  discourse,  and  of  the  argu- 
ments adduced  in  their  elucidation,  what  terms, 
distinct  in  sound  though  identical  in  meaning,  could 
convey  the  mingled  grace  and  energy,  the  united 
beauty  and  perspicuity  of  the  language,  in  which 
these  are  preserved  ? — language  which,  in  its  majestic 
simplicity  and  harmonious  flow,  resembles  the  tenour 
of  some  mighty  and  unrufiled  river,  whose  depth 
may  be  inferred  from  its  very  clearness,  and  whose 
murmurs  are  the  blended  tones  of  melody  and 
strength. 

The  oratorical  2:)0wcrs  of  Cicero,  which  had  been 
long  suffered  to  remain  dormant,  were  about  the 
same  time  again  put  forth  in  his  speech  in  favour  of 
Marcellus,  delivered  in  despite  of  his  determination 
of  preserving  an  obstinate  silence  on  all  public  affairs 
during  the  continuance  of  the  present  form  of  govern- 
ment.    The  name  of  Marcus  Claudius  Marcellus  is 


I 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


403 


known  in  history  as  that  of  one  of  the  most  active 
agents  in  promoting  the  civil  war.  Throughout  the 
whole  army  of  Pompey,  Caesar  had  not  a  more  bitter 
enemy,  or  a  more  determined  opponent.  After  the 
battle  of  PliaTsalia,  having  declined  to  follow  the 
remains  of  the  vanquished  party  to  Africa,  and  dis- 
daining to  apply  to  his  prosperous  foe  for  pardon,  he 
had  retired  to  Mitylene  in  the  isle  of  Lesbos ;  wliere 
lie  devoted  liis  time  to  literary  pursuits  with  a  calm- 
ness and  constancy,  which  elicited  the  admiration 
and  were  recorded  by  the  friendship  of  Marcus  Brutus, 
who  visited  him  in  his  retirement.  His  friends  at 
Rome,  however,  were  not  possessed  of  the  same  indif- 
ference with  regard  to  his  recal  as  himself,  and  at  a 
general  meeting  of  the  senate,  when  Caius  Marcellus 
had  preferred  at  the  feet  of  Caesar  an  earnest  request 
for  the  forgiveness  of  his  brother,  the  whole  assem- 
bly arose,  and  advancing  in  the  posture  of  suppli- 
cants, with  extended  hands  and  importunate  solicita- 
tions seconded  the  request.  Cspsar,  moved  by  the 
unexpected  appeal,  was  at  length  won  to  the  side  of 
clemency,  and  in  return  received  a  glowing  eulogium 
from  the  lips  of  Cicero.  The  glance  of  modem  criti- 
cism has  affected  to  discover  in  the  speech  received 
as  that  for  Marcellus,  indications  of  a  later  period 
and  of  a  less  powerful  hand.  Recent  discoveries, 
however,  seem  to  establish  at  least  very  considerable 
parts  of  it  as  genuine,  and,  judging  from  these,  it 
is  scarcely  too  harsh  a  criticism  to  affirm,  that  it 
is  not  more  distinguished  by  grace  of  language  than 
by  a  spirit  of  unnecessary  adulation.  Something 
may  be  allowed  to  the  impulse  of  gratitude ;  some- 
thing to  the  ignorance  of  Cicero  respecting  the  ulte- 
rior designs  of  Caesar,  and  a  lingering  hope  that  he 
might  yet  be  induced  to  restore  the  republic ;  yet, 
as  the  oration  was  delivered  in  a  place  where  the 
vacant  seats,  once  occupied  by  many  of  his  friends, 

D  d2 


404  THE    LIFE    OF   eiCERO. 

must  have  reminded  the  speaker  of  the  sword  yet 
red  with  their  blood;  and  where,  without  any  great 
stretch  of  the  imagination,  he  might  have  imagined 
the  stem  shade  of  Cato  rebuking  his  weakness  by  its 
silent  presence,  his  vivid  epithets  of  approbation  seem, 
At  least,  strangely  misplaced,  and  his  finished  flattery 
ill  in  accordance  with  recent  recollections  and  present 
circumstances. 

Somewhat  similar  in  subject,  although  less  marked 
by  the  faults  of  the  preceding  address,  was  the  speech 
in  favour  of  Quintus  Ligarius,  who,  like  Marcellus, 
Iwas  at  the  time  living  in  exile,  in  consequence  of  the 
'part  he  had  taken  against  Caesar  in  Africa.  His  two 
brothers,  who  had  taken  arms  on  the  opposite  side, 
had  been  urgent  for  his  recal,  and  seemed  not  un- 
likely to  prevail ;  when  Quintus  Tubero,  instigated 
by  a  feeling  of  enmity  of  long  standing,  formally 
accused  him  of  having  shown  more  than  an  ordinary 
violence  in  favour  of  the  senate.  The  result  of  this 
charge  is  related  by  Plutarch  as  follows  : — "  When 
Quintus  Ligarius  was  impeached  on  the  ground  of  his 
having  been  among  Caesar's  enemies,  and  Cicero  had 
undertaken  his  cause,  Csesar  is  reported  to  have  ob- 
served : — '  AVhy  should  we  not  indulge  ourselves  on 
this  occasion  with  the  pleasure  of  hearing  Cicero 
plead,  since  it  is  manifest,  on  the  clearest  evidence, 
that  the  accused  is  guilty  of  all  that  has  been  urged 
against  him  ? '  But  when  the  orator  commenced  his 
speech  in  a  manner  to  excite  general  emotion,  and,  as 
it  proceeded,  introduced  the  most  powerful  as  well 
as  beautiful  appeals  to  the  passions  of  his  audience ; 
it  was  clearly  seen,  by  his  frequent  changes  of  coun- 
tenance, how  greatly  Caesar  was  moved,  until  at 
length,  on  the  speaker  alluding  to  the  battle  of  Phar- 
salia,  he  was  so  violently  agitated  as  to  tremble  from 
head  to  foot,  and  let  drop  the  papers  which  he  was 
holding  in  his  hand.     Being  completely  vanquished, 


I 


I 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  405 

therefore,  by  the  force  of  eloquence,  he  dismissed  the 
accusation  against  Ligarius."     Such  are  the  words 
of  Plutarch,  and  his  account  may  possibly  be  correct. 
Yet,  in  the  oration  for  Ligarius,  ingenious,  plausible, 
and  judicious  as  it  unquestionably  is,  there  appear 
but  few  passages  calculated  to  excite  any  extraor- 
dinary emotions  in  the  auditors— none,  certainly,  of 
such  profound  pathos  as  to  blanch  the  cheek,  or  un- 
nerve the  frame  of  the  chieftain  upon  the  judgment 
seat.     It  contains  neither  expressions  of  sympathy 
with  the  living,  nor  a  funeral  lament  over  the  illus- 
trious dead ;  and  where  Pharsalia  is  mentioned,  it  is 
without  any  reference  to  all  that  was  ruined  and 
blighted  on    that    disastrous   field.       Nor   are   the 
attempts  made  to  gain  credit  for  it  on  the  ground  of 
its  excessive  freedom  greatly  supported  by  the  evi- 
dence of  the  speech  itself.     Its  chief  merit  of  the 
kind  is  to  be  found  in  a  forcible  protest  contained  in 
it  against  the  appellation  of  wickedness,  as  connected 
with   the   faction   of  Pompey.      "  Do   you,   then, 
Tubero,"  exclaims  the  orator,  "  term  the  conduct  of 
Ligarius  wicked  ?     Under  what  pretext  ?  for  never 
yet  has  that  cause  been  distinguished,  by  such   a 
name.     Some  may  designate  it  error— some  fear; 
those  who  distinguish  it  by  a  severer  appellation,  un- 
reasonable expectation— selfishness— hatred— obsti- 
nacy  those  who  give  it  the  harshest  title  of  alW 

rashness ;— but  wickedness,  no  one  has  yet  termed 
it  but  yourself.  To  me,  indeed,  it  appears,  if  the 
proper  and  true  name  be  sought  for  our  misfortunes 
—that  a  certain  fatal  and  calamitous  influence  has 
overtaken  us,  and  occupied  the  minds  of  men  before 
they  were  aware  of  its  approach;  so  that  no  one 
should  wonder  that  human  counsels  have  been  over- 
come by  divine  necessity.  Let  us  be  called  unhappy, 
although,  under  such  a  conqueror,  it  is  impossible 
that  we  should  be  so.    I  speak  not,  however,  of  such 


406 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


of  US  as  survive,  but  rather  of  those  who  have  perished. 
Ambitious,  resentful,  obstinate,  they  may  have  been  ; 
but  be  it  allowed  to  the  deceased  Pompey,  and  to  many 
others  who  fell  with  him,  to  be  free  from  the  charge 
of  wickedness,  of  madness,  and  of  parricide  *."  Such 
is  one  of  the  boldest  attempts  at  liberty  in  the  whole 
oration,— an  attempt  simply  to  prove,  that  in  osten- 
sibly defending  the  ancient  constitution,  the  followers 
of  Pompey  were  not  to  be  considered  exactly  in  the 
light  of  criminals.  Considering  the  part  which  Cicero 
had  acted  in  the  late  disputes,  it  was  surely  hardly 
possible  for  him  to  say  less ;  and  that  he  contented 
himself  with  saying  so  little,  and  qualifying  that  little 
-with  abundant  praise  of  the  individual  to  whom  it 
might  prove  unpalatable,  would  be  more  surprising 
than  the  slight  indications  of  courage  contained  in  it, 
did  not  the  general  spirit  of  servile  adulation  which 
characterised  the  times  cause  anything,  but  the  most 
extravagant  expression  of  this  degrading  sentiment, 
to  assume  the  stamp  and  title  of  freedom. 

Towards  the  winter  of  the  same  year,  which, 
besides  the  ordinary  intercalary  months  often  inserted, 
was  increase^  by  the  addition  of  two  others f,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  reformation  of  the  Roman  calendar, 
just  completed  with  the  assistance  of  the  astronomer 
Sosigenes  of  Alexandria,  by  the  great,  and  all  but 
universal  genius,  now  placed  at  the  helm  of  the  state, 

*  Pro  Ligario,  vi. — Dr.  Middleton's  comment  upon  the  oration 
is  as  follows  : — "  The  merit  of  this  speech  is  too  well  known  to  be 
enlarged  upon  here.  Those  who  read  it  will  find  no  reason  to 
charge  Cicero  with  flattery,  but  the  free  spirit  which  it  breathes  in 
the  face  of  that  power  to  which  it  was  suing  for  mercy,  must  give  a 
fresh  idea  of  the  art  of  the  speaker,  who  could  deliver  such  bold 
truths  without  offence,  as  well  as  of  the  generosity  of  the  judge, 
who  beard  them,  not  only  with  patience,  but  with  approbation." 
This  is  the  elegant  exaggeration  of  a  learned  but  prejudiced 
biographer. 

t  In  all  by  the  insertion  of  ninety  davs. — Sec  Fasti  Hellenici, 
iii.  202. 


I 


I 


I 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


407 


•( 


Csesar  was  summoned  into  Spain  to  conduct  his  final 
expedition  against  the  sons  of  Pompey.  With  the 
year  ensuing,  a.  u.  c.  709,  commenced  his  fourth  con- 
sulate, which  he  filled  without  the  assistance  of  a 
colleague,  and  the  third  period  of  his  dictatorship, 
during  which  he  declared  Marcus  iEmilius  Lepidus 
his  master  of  the  horse.  He  took  with  him  Quintus, 
the  nephew  of  Cicero,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
Marcus,  the  son  of  the  orator,  was  prevented  from 
engaging  in  the  same  service.  Cicero,  however,  who, 
with  all  his  expressions  of  respect  for  Caesar,  had 
strenuously  and  consistently  rejected  every  oppor- 
tunity and  offer  of  holding  any  employment  under 
him,  was  resolved  that  no  active  support  should  be 
given  to  what  he  yet  considered  the  cause  of  usurpa- 
tion by  so  near  a  relative;  and  persuaded  his  son,  by 
the  promise  of  an  establishment  in  every  way  suited  to 
his  rank  *,  to  retire  to  Athens,  and  devote  his  atten- 
tion for  the  present  to  the  study  of  philosophy  under 
the  guidance  of  its  then  most  eminent  professors,  and 
more  especially  of  Chrysippus,  the  leader  of  the 
school  of  the  Peripatetics.  This  arrangement  had 
scarcely  been  made  and  complied  with,  when  the 
sudden  death  of  TuUia  in  child-birth  took  place  at 
Rome,  and  in  the  house  of  Dolabella,  (then  serving 
with  the  army  of  Ceesar  in  Spain  t,)  which,  not- 
withstanding her  late  divorce,  a  step  too  much 
in  accordance  with  the  wishes  of  both  parties  to 
have  been  productive  of  any  ill-feeling  on  either 
side,  she  had  still  continued  to  occupy.  The  blow 
fell  witli  astounding  effect  upon  her  parent;  who, 
strong  in  natural  affection,  and  long  accustomed  to 
regard  her,  from  her  excellent  moral  character  and 
high  intellectual  endowments,  as  the  flower  and  hope 
of  his  house,  saw  her  snatched  away  in  the  meridian 
of  life,  at  a  time  when  his  own  declining  years  were 


*  Ad  Attic,  xii.  3*2. 


•f  Ad  Diversos,  ix.  11. 


408 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


409 


beginning  to  make  increasingly  valuable  the  solace 
and  relief  afforded  by  her  society*.  Utterly  prostrated 
by  the  unexpected  event,  and  shunning  in  his  anguish 
the  sight  and  converse   of  his  dearest  friends,   he 
retired  at  once  from  Rome  to  the  house  of  Atticus ; 
where  he  endeavoured  to  find  refuge  from  the  pur- 
suing sense  of  his   overwhelming  calamity  in  his 
favourite  studies.     This  retreat,  however,  appearing 
too  little  secluded,  he  soon  afterwards  withdrew  to 
his  seat  on  the  small  island  of  Astura  near  Antium, 
situatc^d  in  the  midst  of  a  wild  and  romantic  country; 
where,    in   that  luxurious  abandonment  to   sorrow 
which    obstinately  seeks   such   aspects   of  external 
nature  as  are  most  calculated  to  promote  and  ad- 
minister  to    its   indulgence,    he  spent  his  time  in 
mournful  laments  and  useless  meditations  upon  the 
good  which  had  departed  from  him,  amidst  the  mur- 
murs of  the  surrounding  forests,  or  the  melancholy 
plunging   of  the  waves   upon    the   deserted    shore. 
**  Inlthis  solitude  t,"  he  writes  to  his  friend  Atticus, 
"  I  am  freed  from   every  kind  of  intercourse  with 
mankind,  and  withdrawing  early  in  the  morning  to 
the  shelter  of  some  dense  and  tangled  wood,  I  quit 
not  my  retreat  till  the  appearance  of  the  shadows  of 
evening.     Next  to  yourself,  nothing  is  so  dear  to  me 
as  seclusion,  where  my  only  communication  is  with 
literature ;  yet,  how  often  is  this  interrupted  by  my 
tears,  which  I  resist,  indeed,  to  the  utmost  of  my 
power,  but  am  not  yet  equal  to  the  task  of  fully 
repressing  them."     Still,  in  his  sorrow  on  this  occa- 
sion, there  was  nothing  of  an  abject  character.     His 
expressions  of  grief,  unlike  those  uttered  during  his 
exile,  are,  however  forcible,  at  least  manly,  and  often 
not  undignified,  and  indicate  that,  amidst  the  sorrow 

*  Tullia,  at  tbe  time  of  her  death,  was  little  more  than  thirty 
years  of  age. 

f  Ad  Attic,  xii.  1 5. 


I 


occasioned  by  his  bereavement,  he  was  rather  desirous 
of  restraining  the  full  expression  of  his  feelings,  than 
of  sacrificing  to  the  vanity  of  amplifying  them  in  the 
eyes  of  his  friends  by  any  ill-placed  pomp  of  senti- 
ment or  language. 

The  news  of  his  misfortune  drew  forth  letters  of 
consolation  from  all  quarters.     The  most  celebrated 
philosophers  were  ready  with  such  comfort  as  their 
several  tenets  could  supply,  and  the  voice  of  private 
friendship  was  exerted  to  soothe  his  wounded  spirit 
with  the  ready  language  of  regret  and  condolence.  The 
historian  Lucius  Lucceius* — Cjesar  from  the  tumult 
and  bustle  of  his  camp  near  Ilispalis  in  Spain  t—. 
Marcus  Brutus  from  Cisalpine  Gaul  J,  andServiusSul- 
picius  from  his  government  in  Greece,  severally  wrote 
to  assure  him  of  their  sympathy,  and  exhort  him  to 
fortitude  under  his  loss.     The  epistle  of  the  last  is 
still  extant  §;  a  composition  replete  with  beauty  and 
eloquence,  but,  at  the  same  time,  a  mournful  comment 
upon  the  creed  which  saw  beyond  the  burning  pile 
and  the  sepulchral  urn  little  either  to  wish  or  to 
deprecate,  to  dread  or  to  desire ;~  nothing  of  that 
dawning  hope  and  glorious  expectation  by  which  the 
most  ignorant  cottager  is  now  able  to  commit  to  its 
secluded  resting-place  the  past  dwelling  of  suffering, 
and  the  future  residence  of  immortality ;  rejoicing  in 
a  source  of  comfort  once  hidden  from  the  wisdom  of 
saf^es,  and  unpurchaseable  by  the  wealth  of  kings. 
The  following  is   a  translation   of  this   celebrated 
letter : — 


•  Ad  Diversos,  V.  13,. 14. 

+  Ad  Attic,  xiii.  20.— A  Csesare  literas  accept  consolatonas 
datas  prid.  Cal.  Maias  Hispali— Consequently,  after  the  battle  of 
Munda,  which  appears  to  have  been  fought  on  the  1 7th  of  March, 
A  u.  c.  709.  Cneius  Pompey  the  younger  was  slain  on  the  12th  of 


April  in  the  same  year. 
X  Ad  Attic,  xii.  13. 


§  Ad  Diversos,  iv.  5. 


410 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


411 


"  SERVIUS   SULPICIUS    TO    MARCUS    TULLIUS   CICERO. 

"  Great  and  severe  was  my  sorrow,  as  indeed  the 
occasion  demanded,  on  my  receiving  the  intelligence 
of  the  death  of  your  daughter  TuUia,  which  I  con- 
sidered as  a  calamity  common  to  us  both;  and  had  I 
been  at  this  time  in  Rome,  I  should  neither  have 
been  wanting  in  my  attempts  personally  to  console 
you,  nor  shrunk  from  openly  declaring  the  full  extent 
of  my  grief  in  your  presence.  Since,  however,  this 
is  denied  me ;  although  I  am  aware  that  the  office 
which  has  devolved  upon  me  must  necessarily  be 
one  of  grief  and  bitterness,  (since  in  all  cases  those 
friends  and  relations  whose  duty  it  is  to  undertake 
it,  being  afflicted,  to  a  certain  extent,  with  the  same 
sorrow  as  the  chief  sufferer,  and  unable  to  perform 
it  without  tears,  appear  themselves  rather  to  need 
comfort  than  able  to  bestow  it  where  most  required,) 
I  have,  notwithstanding,  determined  briefly  to  lay 
before  you  such  motives  to  resignation  as  have  oc- 
curred to  me  ;  not  from  any  belief  that  they  have 
escaped  your  own  reflections,  but  imagining  that 
your  full  perception  of  their  force  may  hitherto  have 
been  hindered  by  the  violence  of  your  emotions. 

"  AV'hat  feature  is  there  in  the  present  calamity 
which  has  fallen  upon  your  house  to  justify  your 
excess  of  sorrow  ?  Consider  the  manner  in  which 
fortune  has  hitherto  dealt  with  us  all,  and  that  every- 
thing has  been  torn  from  us  that  possesses  an  equal 
claim  upon  our  affections  with  our  children — our 
country,  our  honour,  our  several  dignities,  and  public 
employments.  By  this  one  additional  misfortune 
what  increase  has  our  former  wretchedness  sus- 
tained ?  Or  how  is  it,  that  minds  so  greatly  exer- 
cised by  reverses  previously  endured,  do  not  grow 
callous,  and  learn  to  regard  less  seriously  every  kind 
of  ill  ?     How  often  must  you  have  come  to  this  con- 


I 


elusion,  as  I  myself  have  frequently  done,  that,  in 
such  times  as  the  present,  those  have  not  been  most 
hardly  treated  who  have  been  permitted  tranquilly 
to  pass  from  life  to  death ! 

"  What  prospect,  moreover,  was  there  which  could 
strongly  attach  her  whom  we  lament,  to  existence? — 
what  event — what  anticipation  —  what  beloved  solace, 
or  object  of  affection  ?  Shall  we  mention  the  hope 
of  spending  her  life  in  union  with  some  one  of  our 
noble  youth  ?  Truly  these  are  fitting  personages 
from  whom,  consistently  with  your  dignity,  you 
could  select  a  son-in-law  worthy  of  your  confidence 
in  entrusting  him  with  the  happiness  of  your  child- 
ren. Was  it  the  possibility  of  becoming  the  mother 
of  a  family,  whose  prosperity  might  prove  a  future 
motive  for  rejoicing — who  might  enjoy  independently 
the  property  transmitted  to  them  by  their  parents — 
who  might  aspire  in  succession  to  the  various  honours 
of  the  state  in  succession,  and  use  their  liberty  to  ad- 
vance the  interests  of  their  friends?  What  among  these 
several  objects  has  not  been  snatched  away  before  the 
existence  of  the  possibility  of  its  being  bestowed? 
Yet,  for  all  this,  you  will  perhaps  urge  the  loss  of  our 
offspring  is  an  evil.  Granted.  It  is,  however,  one 
of  greater  magnitude  to  suffer  what  we  are  all  called 
upon  to  endure.  One  reflection,  which  has  conveyed 
no  small  consolation  to  my  own  feelings,  I  am  anxious 
to  communicate,  under  the  impression  that  it  may 
also  tend  to  soften  the  violence  of  your  grief.  On 
my  return  from  Asia,  while  I  was  sailing  from 
iEgina  towards  Megar^,  I  began  to  direct  my  gaze 
towards  the  regions  which  lay  around  my  course. 
Behind  me  was  ^gina,  before  me  Megara,  Piraeus 
on  the  right  hand,  Corinth  on  the  left — cities,  which 
though  once  in  the  highest  condition  of  prosperity 
and  glory,  now  present  but  the  spectacle  of  fallen 
grandeur  and  decay.     Upon  this,  I  could  not  forbear 


412 


THE  LIFE  OP  CICERO. 


from  indulglnof  such  meditations  as  these  : — '  Alas! 
frail  and  insignificant  as  we  are,  can  it  excite  a  sense 
of  murmuring  in  our  minds  if  one  of  our  number, 
necessarily  doomed  to  a  brief  existence,  has  perished 
either  by  a  natural  or  violent  death,  while  in  one 
spot  of  the  earth  the  lifeless  remains  of  so  many  cities 
lie  publicly  exposed  to  our  view  !  Is  not  this,  Ser- 
vius,  sufficient  to  induce  you  to  limit  your  desires, 
and  to  prompt  the  recollection  that  you  are  mortal  ?  * 
Believe  me,  I  was  not  lightly  comforted  by  this 
consideration.  Place,  then,  a  spectacle  of  a  similar 
nature  before  your  own  eyes.  While  so  many  of  our 
most  illustrious  citizens  have  been  destroyed  by  one 
blow — while  our  empire  has  suffered  so  considerable 
a  diminution — while  every  province  has  been  shaken 
as  if  by  the  shock  of  an  earthquake — is  it  fit  to  give 
way  to  extreme  emotion  for  the  loss  of  the  fleeting 
breath  of  one  feeble  woman,  who,  if  she  had  not  died 
at  the  present  time,  must  have  done  so  within  a  few 
years,  by  the  very  condition  of  humanity  with  which 
she  was  invested  at  her  birth  ? 

"Let  me  advise  you,  however,  to  call  off  your 
mind  even  from  these  contemplations,  salutary  as 
they  are,  and  to  increase  in  their  stead  such  reflec- 
tions as  are  suitable  to  the  dignity  of  your  station — 
that  your  daughter  lived  as  long  as  life  was  desirable 
—that,  during  her  stay  among  us,  we  possessed  a 
country  which  was  yet  free — that  she  had  the  felicity 
of  seeing  her  parent  raised  successively  to  the  offices 
of  praetor,  consul,  and  augur — was  wedded  to  hus- 
bands chosen  from  the  noblest  families— had  full  ex- 
perience of  every  blessing — and  perishe<l  at  tlie  same 
moment  with  our  sinking  state.  In  all  this,  what 
single  ground  of  complaint  against  fortune  is  pre- 
sented either  to  her  or  to  yourself  ?  Forget  not,  in 
short,  the  name  you  bear,  nor  the  former  precepts 
and  admonitions  you  have  been  accustomed  to  bestow 


I 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


413 


upon  your  friends:  neither  follow  the  example  of 
those  unskilful  physicians,  who,  while  professing  a 
knowledge  of  medicine  with  regard  to  the  diseases  of 
their  patients,  are  wholly  ignorant  of  the  means  of 
healing  their  own ;  but  rather  apply  to  yourself  and 
to  your  own  distresses  the  remedies  which,  in  the 
case  of  others,  you  have  been  accustomed  to  prescribe. 
"  There  is  no  shape  of  grief  which  length  of  time 
has   not  a  tendency  to  soften   and  diminish;   but 
surely  it  is  disgraceful  to  await  the  effect  of  this  lin- 
gering process,  and  to  forbear  meeting  your  calamity 
with  the  arms  which  your  wisdom  might  supply. 
If,  indeed,  there  exists  any  power  of  perception  even 
after  death,  so   great  was  the  love   of  your  child 
towards  you,  so  strong  her  affection  for  all  her  rela- 
tives, that  I  am  confident  such  a  course  would  be  far 
from  being  consistent  with  her  own  wishes.     Yield, 
then,  thus  far  to  the  deceased— to  your  remaining 
friends,  who  sympathise  with  you  in  your  sorrow- 
to  your  country,  that  it  may  still,  if  opportunity  be 
afforded,  profit  by  your  assistance  and  counsels.     In 
conclusion,  since  we  are  sunk  so  low  by  our  misfor- 
tunes as  to  be  compelled  to  submit  to  the  existmg 
condition  of  affairs,  act  not  in  jmch  a  manner  as  to 
induce  others  to  believe  that  you  are  not  so  much 
lamenting  your  daughter  as  the  present  condition  of 
the  state,  and  the  ascendancy  of  the  victorious  party. 
"  I  am  ashamed  to  write  more  fully  upon  this  sub- 
ject, lest  I  should  appear  to  entertain  a  distrust  of 
your  prudence.     With  one  single  suggestion  more  I 
will  conclude  my  epistle.     We  have,  on  former  occa- 
sions, seen  you  nobly  play  your  part  in  prosperity, 
and  obtain  the  greatest  credit  for  your  conduct  while 
thus  circumstanced.     Let  us  now  be  convinced  that 
you  are  equally  able  to  sustain  adversity,  and  that  it 
does  not  appear  to  you  a  more  heavy  burden  than  it 
oucrht ;  lest,  with  all  your  virtues,  this  one  of  patient 


414 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


415 


submission  should  alone  appear  to  be  wanting.  Witli 
respect  to  my  own  affairs  and  the  condition  of  the 
province,  I  will  send  you  the  necessary  intelligence 
when  I  have  reason  to  believe  your  mind  is  more 
composed.     Farewell*." 

As  it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  men  to  measure  their 
griefs  by  the  estimate  of  others,  the  reply  of  Cicero 
to  the  philosophical  arguments  of  his  friend  claims 
especial  indulgence  for  his  abandonment  to  his  sorrow 
on  the  usual  plea  of  being  distinguished  from  others 
by  the  peculiar  nature  of  his  calamity  t.  He  cites 
the  most  remarkable  instances  of  similar  misfortunes 
sustained  by  the  honoured  and  renowned  of  his  nation 
as  lessened  by  alleviating  circumstances,  by  which 
the  loss  sustained  by  himself  was  unaccompanied, 
and  pathetically  laments  the  extinction  of  his  last 
hope,  after  his  dignity,  honour,  and  independence, 
had  successively  perished.  TVe  find  from  his  other 
letters,  that  he  was  intent  upon  perpetuating  the 
memory  of  his  daughter  by  a  splendid  temple  to  be 
erected  to  her  honour,^  as  well  as  by  the  ceremony  of 
a  solemn  apotheosis : — "  For,"  he  observes,  in  excuse 
for  this  determination,  "  if  the  offspring  of  Cadmus, 
Amphitryon,  and  Tyndarus,  were  thought  fit  to  be 
exalted  to  the  heavens,  the  same  honour  ought 
certainly  to  be  paid  to  my  deceased  child.  This, 
then,  I  will  take  due  care  to  effect,  most  excel- 
lent and  accomplished  among  women,  and,  with 
the  approbation  of  the  gods  themselves,  to  whose 
society  thou  art  already  admitted,  consecrate  thee  to 
the  regard  and  veneration  of  all  mortals  J."  After 
hesitating,  however,  for  some  time,  in  the  choice  of 
an  appropriate  site,  for  which  he  seems  first  to  have 
fixed  upon  certain  gardens  beyond  the  Tiber,  with  a 

*   Ad  Diversos,  iv.  5.  f  Ibid.  iv.  6. 

t  This  passage  is  contained  in  a  fragment  of  the  treatise  "  Dc 
Consolatione,"  afterwards  quoted  and  thus  preserved  by  Lactantius, 


view  to  its  greater  publicity,  and  afterwards,  by  the  . 
advice  of  Atticus,  upon  the  ground  near  some  one 
of  his  own  villas,  he  was  probably  induced,  from 
motives  now  unknown,  to  lay  aside  his  intention 
altogether;  although  he  had  already  proceeded  so  far 
in  its  execution  as  to  contract  with  a  sculptor  of 
Chios  for  a  number  of  pillars  of  the  costly  marble  of 
that  island,  and  to  determine  both  upon  the  architect 
and  the  design  of  the  edifice*.  But  a  far  more  honour- 
able monument  than  the  most  elaborate  skill  either- 
of  the  architect  or  of  the  sculptor  could  have  pro- 
duced, was  raised  to  the  memory  of  TuUia  by  the 
genius  of  her  parent,  whose  treatise  upon  Consola- 
tion, once  regarded  among  the  best  of  his  works,  was 
written  shortly  after  her  death— the  result  of  many 
of  the  hours  of  wakefulness,  during  which,  although 
the  violence  of  his  grief  was  able  to  banish  sleep  from 
his  couch,  it  was  unpossessed  of  the  power  wholly 
to    divert  his  active  and  unwearied  intellect   from 
study.     In  this  treatise,  whatever  arguments  tendmg 
to  encourage  the  exercise  of  fortitude  under  suffenng 
had  been  propounded  by  the  most  esteemed  philoso- 
phers, were  collected,  and,  no  doubt,  adorned  to  the 
utmost,  by  the  judgment  and  imagination  of  the  great 
mind  which  devoted  itself  to  the  task  of  their  selec- 
tion.    The  hand  of  time,  however,  which  has,  m  too 
many  instances,  made  no  distinction  between  the  dif- 
ferent means  adopted  for  preserving  the  recollection  of 
faded  generations,  confounding ,  in  the  general  vrreck, 
the  eulogies  of  the  eloquent  and  the  reasonings  ot 
the  wise  with  the  more  perishable  witness  of  brass 
and  marble,  has  left  but  few  fragments  of  this  care- 
fully finished  work  to  indicate  the  considerations  by 
which  its  author  endeavoured  to  inspire  in  the  breasts 
of  others  the  firmness  to  which  his  own  was  a  stranger. 
Its  general  character  seems  to  have  been  such  as  to 
*  Ad  Attic,  xii.  18,  19  ;  xii.  36. 


r 


416  THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

ensure  it  a  frequent  perusal  among  the  early  Fathers 
of  the  Christian  church,  but  of  its  particular  claims 
to  their  approbation  we  are  little  better  acquainted 
than  with  the  actual  spot  in  which  were  deposited 
the  ashes  of  the  Roman  matron,  the  remembrance  of 
whose  decease  it  was  intended  to  perpetuate.  This 
was  not  the  only  production  to  which  the  temporary 
retirement  of  Cicero  from  more  active  life,  after  the 
death  of  his  daughter,  was  devoted.  His  work  enti- 
tled "  Hortensius"  was  soon  afterwards  published ;  a 
disquisition  doomed  to  the  same  fate  with  his  treatise 
upon  Consolation,  and  respecting  which  nothing 
more  is  certain  than  it  consisted  of  an  imaginary  dia- 
logue between  Cicero  and  his  great  predecessor  in 
honour  and  reputation,  in  which  the  pursuits  of  phi- 
losophy were  defended  by  the  former.  His  next 
labour  was  the  composition  of  his  Academic  Ques- 
tions, which,  after  they  had  been  originally  written 
in  two  books,  bearing  the  names  of  Cato  and  Lu- 
cullus,  he  subsequently  enlarged  to  four,  and  inscribed 
to  his  friend  Marcus  Terentius  Varro*,  in  an  epistle, 
still  remaining,  of  exceeding  finish  and  elegance. 
Upon  these  dissertations  also  the  envious  power  of 
age  has  been  but  too  successfully  exerted;  since  the 
commencement  of  the  first  book,  like  the  still  exist- 
ing porcli  of  some  magnificent  edifice  long  sunk  in 
ruin,  alone  exists  as  the  undisputed  representative  of 
the  beauty  of  the  series  of  Dialogues  to  which  it  was 
formerly  introductory;  the  Lucullus  generally  ap- 
pended to  it,  although  the  labour  of  no  doubtful 
hand,  being  unquestionably  the  second  book  of  the 
original  Academics,  and  never  having  constituted 
j)art  of  the  work  in  its  improved  form.     We  learn 

*  The  celebrated  author  of  the  treatises  **  De  Re  Riistira"  and 
*'  De  iJnguA  Latin^,"  the  latter  of  which  was  dedicated  to  Cicero. 
Several  letters  to  this  famous  individual  are  to  be  found  in  Cicero's 
miscellaneous  correspondence. — Ad  Diversos,  ix.  I — 8. 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO.  417 

from  this,-and  from  other  evidence,  that  in  these  fan- 
cied discussions,  the  scene  of  which  was  laid  at  the 
villa  of  Cicero  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Cumae,  the 
task  of  defending  the  principles  of  Arcesilaus  and 
Carneades,  (the  founders  of  the  Middle  and  New  Aca- 
demy,) and  more  especially  those  of  the  latter,  was 
assigned  to  Cicero,  and  that  of  opposing  tliem  to 
Varro — the  third  speaker,  Atticus,  acting  as  mode- 
rator between  the  disputants.  We  may  also  infer, 
that  in  the  destruction  of  the  remaininor  books  we 
have  to  regret  a  perfect  description  and  history  of  the 
various  shades  of  opinion  into  which  the  schools  of 
Greece,  since  philosophy  possessed  a  name,  had  been 
divided.  The  "  Academics"  were  succeeded  by  the 
famous  and  long-contemplated  inquiry,  "  De  Finibus 
Bonorum  et  Malorum,"  or,  in  the  words  of  its  author, 
"  concerning  the  ultimate  principle  by  which  the  wis- 
dom of  man  is  to  be  guided  for  the  attainment  of 
happiness,  and  those  objects  to  which  nature  directs 
its  efibrts  as  the  greatest  of  blessings,  or  shuns  with 
aversion  as  the  most  serious  of  ills  *."  This  majestic 
subject  of  argument  is  pursued  through  five  books, 
addressed  to  Marcus  Brutus,  of  harmonious  and  elo- 
quent reasoning.  In  the  first  and  second  the  doc- 
trines of  Epicurus  are,  with  the  display  of  great 
ingenuity  and  imagination,  defended  by  their  advo- 
cate Triarius,  and  disproved  by  the  superior  argu- 
ments and  nobler  philosophy  of  Cicero.  The  third 
and  fourth  are  devoted  to  the  consideration  of  the 
principles  of  Zeno's  philosophy,  in  a  discussion  which 
is  described  as  having  originated  in  an  accidental 
meeting  between  Cicero  and  Cato  in  the  library  of 
Lucullus,  and  in  which  the  maxims  of  the  Porch, 
notwithstanding  the  powerful  defence  set  up  by  the 
Stoic,  are  proved  to  be  equally  untenable  with  those 
of  the  Garden.     The  fifth  contains  an  explanation  of 


•   De  Fiuibue,  lib.  i.  cap.  4. 
£  G     . 


418  THE   LIFE   OF   CICEHO. 

the  philosophy  of  the  Old  Academy  and  of  ^he  earlier 
Peripatetics*,  in  the  person  of  Marcus  Piso,  before 
an  audience  consisting  of  Atticus,  the  elder  Marcus, 
and  Quintus  Cicero,  and  their  cousiri  Lucius,  con- 
vened at  Athens  on  the  appropriate  spott,  rendered 
famous  by  the  teaching  of  the  most  illustrious  of  the 
pupils  of  Socrates,  and  by  that  immortal  language  in 
which  the  noblest  of  the  writers  of  Greece  has  arrayed 
the  sentiments  of  the  first  among  her  sages. 

The  short  space  of  time  in  which  these  several 
performances  (each  apparently  demanding  at  least  as 
much  attention  and  study  as  was  probably  bestowed 
upon  the  whole)  were  designed,  entered  upon,  and 
completed,  must  excite  suqmse,  even  in  an  age  in 
which  instances  of  power  of  rapid  composition,  united 
with  corresponding  industry  in  literary  pursuits,  are 
by  no  means  unfrequent.  To  the  works  already 
me  ntioned,  however,  are  yet  to  be  added  five  books 
of  Tusculan  Disputations,  and  a  panegyric  upon 
Porcia,  the  sister  of  Marcus  Cato,  which  were  written 
durincr  the  same  period  of  retirement.  The  latter 
is  entfrely  lost.  The  Tusculan  Questions,  which  still 
remain  entire,  are  devoted  to  various  moral  subjects 
— the  contempt  of  death — the  endurance  of  pain — 
the  means  of  sustaining  and  alleviating  sorrow-— the 
power  of  moderating  all  passions — and  the  sufficiency 
of  virtue  to  ensure  liappiness.  They  are  perhaps  the 
least  pleasing  of  the  ethical  dialogues  of  Cicero — 
whether  the  soil  from  which  so  luxurious  a  produce 
had  recently  arisen  had  now  become  more  limited  in 
ite  fertility ;  or  whether,  in  contemplating  the  more 

«  — in  qua  non  ii  soli  numerantur  qui  Academici  vocantur, 
Speusippus,  Xenocrates,  Polemo,  Grantor,  csterique,  sed  etiam  Peri- 
patetici  veteres,  quorum  princeps  Aristoteles;  quem,  excepto  Pla- 
tone,  baud  scio  an  rcct^  dixerim — principetn  philosopborum. — De 
Finibus,  v.  3. 

t  Cum  autem  vcnissemus  in  Academiae  dod  sine  causA  nobi- 
litata  spatia,  &c.— De  Finibus,  v.  1. 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


419 


4 

'I 


I 


i 
I 


common  questions  upon  which  the  day-spring  of 
Revelation  and  the  borrowed  light  of  Philosophy  have 
alike  been  shed,  the  torch  of  the  latter  to  us  natu- 
rally seems  "  to  pale  its -ineffectual  fires,"  and,  like 
the  same  imperfect  means  of  guidance  exhibited 
amidst  the  glories  of  noon,  but  to  insult  the  brightness 
which  it  is  incapable  of  augmenting. 

The  divorce  of  Cicero  from  his  recently  espoused  wife 
Publilia,  was  not  long  in  following  the  decease  of  his  ^ 
daughter.  Themost  common  reasongiven  forthis  event  ^ 
ascribes  it  to  the  indifference,  and  even  satisfaction, 
shown  by  the  youthful  bride  upon  the  loss  lately  sus- 
tained by  her  husband.  Without  having  recourse,  how- 
ever, to  any  less  obvious  explanation,  it  is  not  necessary 
to  look  further  than  to  the  disparity  of  years,  tastes, 
and,  in  all  probability,  of  disposition,  in  the  parties  to 
this  ill-judged  union,  to  find  ample  cause  for  its  speedy 
dissolution.  From  the  scattered  hints  which  may  be 
collected  from  the  letters  of  Cicero  to  Atticus,  it  does 
not  appear  that  Publilia  was  wanting  to  her  duties ; 
since  she  is  described  as  having  earnestly  requested 
to  be  allowed  to  share  his  solitude,  and  to  have  met 
with  a  direct  refusal*.  On  his  causes  of  complaint  the 
writer  is  altogether  silent.  The  facilities  of  a  Roman 
divorce,  indeed,  spared  him  the  necessity  of  alleging 
any  weighty  reason  for  tlie  separation;  wliile  the 
almost  daily  occurrence  of  this  extreme  remedy  for 
domestic  discord,  enabled  him  to  dispense  with  the 
trouble  of  justifying  a  step,  which  the  slightest  dimi- 
nution of  affection,  the  merest  shadow  of  distrust,  or 

*  Publilia  ad  me  scripsit,  matrem  suam  cum  Publilio  loqui  ad 
me  cum  illo  venturam,  et  se  un^,  si  ego  paterer.  Orat  multis  et 
snpplicibus  verbis  ut  liceat,  et  ut  sibi  rescribam. — Ad  Attic,  xii. 
32.  This  does  not  look  much  like  the  conduct  of  a  wife  destitute 
of  affection.  Yet  he  afterwards  asserts  that  the  letter  had^  been 
dictated  by  a  third  party  :— apparebat  enim  illas  literas  non  esse 
ipsius. 

E  E  2 


420 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


even  the  desire  of  novelty  and   the  inclinations  of 
caprice,  were  considered  amply  to  warrant. 

Ciesar,  having  employed  the  summer  in  suppressing 
the  last  feeble  show  of  resistance  to  his  authority 
in  Spain,  after  his  decisive  defeat  of  the  army  of 
Cneius  Pompey,  arrived  in  Rome  in  the  month  of 
September;  where,  after  divesting  himself  of  the 
consulate,  he  conferred  the  honour,  for  the  three 
remaining  months  of  the  year,  upon  Quintus  Fabius 
Maximus  and  Caius  Trebonius.  His  triumph  over 
the  sons  of  Pompey  and  their  adherents  followed 
shortly  after.  This  pageant,  although  in  the  highest 
degree  magnificent,  was  witnessed  in  sullen  silence 
by  the  greater  part  of  the  population  of  Rome ;  who, 
having  at  length  opened  their  eyes  to  the  real  nature 
of  the  policy  of  their  late  favourite,  had  seen  in  the 
havoc  of  Munda  the  extinction  of  their  last  hope 
of  the  re-establishment  of  the  republic,  and  now 
regarded  the  pomp  which  surrounded  the  returning 
conqueror,  as  a  commemoration  of  his  success,  not  so 
much  over  the  opposing  arms  of  his  political  adver- 
saries, as  over  the  whole  constitution  of  the  state. 
"  The  people,"  says  Cicero,  in  answer  to  a  letter  of 
Atticus  giving  a  detailed  account  of  the  procession, 
"  have  behaved  nobly  in  withholding  their  plaudits, 
even  from  the  image  of  Victory,  in  consideration  of 
the  evil  company  in  which  it  was  exhibited*.*'  At  a 
previous  celebration  of  theCircensian  games  a  similar 
token  of  disapprobation  had  been  given,  when  the 
statue  of  the  dictator  was  borne  in  procession  with 
those  of  the  divinities  generally  exhibited  on  such 
occasions.  Unwarned,  however,  by  these  signs,  that 
he  had  already  reached  the  limit  beyond  which  it 
would  be  no  longer  safe  to  tempt  the  patience  of  his 
fellow  citizens,  and  imprudently  imagining  that  little 
was  now  to  be  apprehended  from  a  party  which  no 
~     ♦  Ad  Attic,  xiii.  44. 


i 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


421 


i 


longer  possessed  the  ability  to  meet  him  in  the  field, 
he  began  without  further  reserve  to  assume  all  the 
insignia  of  kingly  authority,  in  addition  to  its  sub- 
stantial prerogatives,  which  he  had  long  usurped. 
Anything  short  of  this  would  probably  have  been  sub- 
mitted to  with  patience,  but  as  the  minds  of  .men  are, 
by  a  singular  inconsistency,  generally  more  excited 
by  the  symbols  than  the  substance  of  tyranny,  this 
conduct  at  once  unsheathed  against  him  the  daggers, 
against  which  tlie  veteran  bands  by  whom  he  was 
surrounded  could  afford  him  no  protection,  nor  his 
splendid  military  talents  any  means  of  escape.  The 
best  blood  of  Rome  he  had  been  suffered  to  shed  with 
impunity — her  laws  and  liberties  had  been  yielded  at 
his  demand — but  his  laurel  wreath  and  regal  buskins, 
the  armed  Venus  upon  his  signet,  and  the  guards  in 
attendance  upon  his  person,  (crimes  inexpiable  in 
the  eyes  of  his  countrymen  but  by  the  death  of  the 
offender,)  were  not  long  in  bringing  upon  his  vanity 
that  fate,  which  his  ambition  had  hitherto  been  able 
to  shun,  and  might  probably,  with  common  prudence, 
long  have  avoided.  Of  this,  however,  there  was  at 
present  no  indication.  The  senate,  with  more  than 
passive  servility,  continued  to  load  him  with  fresh 
honours*,  and  to  suffer  their  ranks  to  be  swelled 

•  Among  the  privileges,  in  addition  to  that  of  being  ranked  with 
the  gods,  by  this  time  conferred  upon  him  by  the  senate,  the  fol- 
lowing are  some  of  the  most  remarkable  : — he  was  allowed  to  take 
precedence  of  all  other  magistrates— constantly  to  wear  his  tri- 
umphal ornaments,  and  to  be  seated  in  public  in  a  gilded  chair — to 
have  his  fasces  on  all  occasions  bound  with  laurel — to  occupy  a 
place  of  distinction  at  the  public  games — and  to  bear  the  title  of 
Father  of  his  Country.  His  birthday  was  observed  as  an  anniver- 
Bary — his  statues  were  erected  in  all  the  towns  of  Italy,  adorned 
with  the  civic  and  obsidionary  crowns — and  his  robes  ordered  to  be 
made  after  the  fashion  of  those  of  the  ancient  kings — the  title  of 
the  Julian  Jove  was  decreed  to  him — a  college  of  flamens  appointed 
to  celebrate  the  rites  dedicated  to  his  honour — a  temple  erected  for 
bis  worship  in  connexion  with  that  of  the  goddess  of  Clemency, 


422 


fHE   Lit-E  OF  ClCERO. 


«< 


i/?nti 


without  remonstrance  by  his  lowest  dependants.    He 

was  allowed,  in  defiance  of  all  precedent,  to  create  no 

less  than  fourteen  praetors  and  forty  quaestors  for  a 

single  year,  and  to  confer  the  titles  "  consular"  and 

*'  praetorian"  upon  individuals  who  had  never  filled 

a  public  office.     His  nomination  of  himself  together 

with  Mark  Antony  as  consuls  for  the  year  following, 

was  also  received  with  all  marks  of  applause,  and 

everything  seemed  to  promise  an  entire  submission 

to  his  will,  at  the  period,  which  there  is  every  reason 

to   believe   he   had  already  fixed  upon   for  openly 

assuming  the  crown,  and  with  it  the  full  title  of 

king.     While  he  was  thus  daily  borne  forward  by 

the  full  tide  of  adulation  from   one   distinction   to 

another,  Cicero,  who  had  returned  to  Rome  soon 

after   his   triumphal  entry,  was  employed  to  plead 

before  him  the  cause  of  Deiotarus,  once  king  of  the 

j  Lesser  Armenia,  and  still  sovereign  of  some  parts  of 

JGalatia.     After  having  approved  himself  for  many 

years  a  firm  friend  to  the  Romans  during  their  wars 

in  Asia,  and  having  been  complimented  by  the  senate 

in  return  by  a  confirmation  of  his  regal  honours,  and 

presented  with  considerable  additions  to  his  territory, 

this  monarch  had  taken  arms  during  the  civil  war 

in  behalf  of  his  former  benefactor  Pompey,  and  in 

addition  to  supplying  him  with  an  auxiliary  force*, 

had  himself  been  present  at  the  battle  of  Pharsalia. 

The  resentment  of  Caesar  was  naturally  excited  by  his 

conduct,  and  after  the  defeat  of  Pharnaces,  Deiotarus, 

although  he  had  taken  the  field  against  the  Pontic 

rebel t,  was  nevertheless  deprived  by  the  conqueror 

(of  the  whole  of  his  Armenian  and  the  greater  portion 

and  Antony  declared  his  high-priest.  To  these  instances  of  sj  co- 
phancr,  which  it  would  he  difficult  to  exceed  hy  any  rtjference  to 
the  annals  of  the  empire,  at  least  as  many  more  might  he  added. — 
See  Dio,  xliv. 

•  Csesar,  De  Bello  CW.  iii.  4. — Appian,  De  Bell.  Civil,  iii. 


t  Pro  Regc  Deiotaro,  v.  j  Hirtius,  De  Bello  Alex.  Ixxvii, 


V* 


i 


I 


I 
I 

1 

I 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICEHO.  423 

of  his   Galatlan  possessions.     Caesar  was,  however,  t 
magnificently  entertained  by  him  before  his  departure 
from  Asia*,  and  ail  former  causes  of  enmity  seemed 
to  have  been  forgotten  by  both  parties,  when  Castor, 
the  grandson  of  the  Galatian  monarch,  with  whom  he 
had  been  long  at  variance,  determined  upon  an  insi- 
dious plan  for  effecting   his  ruin.     Having  bribed 
Phidippus,  the  medical  attendant   of  the  king,  to 
second  his  design,  he  despatched  him  to  Rome,  to 
accuse  Deiotarus  of  having  entertained  an  intention 
of  assassinating  his  imperial  guest  during  his  visit  to 
his  palace  in  Oalatia.     While  formerly  under  the  dis- 
pleasure of  Caesar,  Deiotarus  had  been  defended  at 
Nicaea  in  Bithynia,  before  the  tribunal  of  that  general, 
by  Marcus  Brutust ;  who  on  the  occasion  pleaded  with 
a  force  and  determination  which  seem  to  have  sunk 
deeply  into  the  mind  of  his  auditor,  and  to  have  given 
him  his  first  perception  of  that  firmness  of  character  in 
the  speaker,  which  was  afterwards  destined  to  prove 
fatal  to  himself.     In  his  defence  against  the  second 
charge  he  was  aided  by  the  talents  of  Cicero,  to  whom 
he  had  foimerly  acted  as  a  faithful  and  strenuous  ally 
during  his  Cilician  campaign.     The  cause  was  heard 
at  Rome  in  the  private  house  of  Casar,  who  was 
sufficiently  moved  by  the  oratory  of  the  advocate 

*  Pro  Deiotaro,  iii. 
t  Ad  Attic,  xlv.  1:—"  Magni  refert,  hie  quid  velit;  sedquidquid 
volet  valde  volet,"  is  recorded  as  the  comment  of  Caesar,  after  the 
speech  of  Brutus.  Respecting  both  the  time  and  place  at  which  this 
oration  was  delivered,  considei-able  difference  of  opinion  has  existed. 
Dr.  Middleton  thinks  that  it  was  spoken  at  Nic«a,  on  the  coast  of 
Liguna,  on  the  return  of  Caesar  from  Spain ;  that  i€,  but  a  short 
time  before  the  oration  of  Cicero  in  the  same  cause.  Mr.  Clmton, 
however,  refers  it  to  the  capital  of  Bithynia,  and  to  the  year 
B.C.  47.  See  Fasti  Hellenici.  Tlie  very  observation  of  Casar 
renders  the  ktter  opinion  almost  certain,  since  he  would  hardly 
&t)«a  much  later  period  have  delivered  himself  to  this  effect,  respect- 
ing one,  with  whose  character  he  mu^t  at  the  time  have  been 
thoroughly  acquainted. 


424 


TH£   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


•THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO. 


425 


.for  the  defendant  to  defer  giving  judgment  until  he 
should  himself  arrive  in  Asia,  in  the  course  of  the 
expedition  against  the  Parthians  which  he  was  then 
meditating.  The  speech  to  which  Deiotarus  owed 
this  delay,  and  to  which  he  was  indebted  for  the 
preservation  of  what  remained  of  his  dominions,  is 
still  extant,  and  though  comparatively  brief,  is  replete 
with  excellences;  resembling  some  one  of  those  beau- 
tiful cameos  produced  by  the  unerring  genius  of  ancient 
art,  in  which,  although  the  hand  of  the  workman  has 
been  confined  to  a  space  comprised  by  narrow  limits, 
every  form  connected  with  the  subject  is  as  perfect,  as 
if  it  were  a  diminished  reflection  of  an  image  struck 
out  by  the  chisel  in  the  full  proportions  of  life. 

Towards  the  close  of  this  year  Cicero  received  a 
visit  from  the  dictator  while  on  his  way  to  Baiae,  of 
which  he  has  left  a  graphic  description : — "Ccesar,"  he 
relates,  "  having  arrived  on  the  evening  of  the  second 
day  of  the  Saturnalia*  at  the  house  of  Philippus,  the 
villa  was  so  crowded  with  his  soldiers  that"  there 
was  scarcely  room  for  himself  to  sup.  His  retinue 
could  not  have  been  less  than  two  thousand  men.  The 
intelligence  of  tliis  threw  me  into  no  small  perplexity 
as  to  what  I  was  to  do  with  such  a  host  on  the  day 
following ;  but  Barba  Cassius  came  kindly  to  my 
relief  by  appointing  me  a  guard.  The  tents  were  there- 
fore pitched  in  the  fields,  and  the  troops  kept  from 
coming  near  my  house.  Caesar  staid  with  Philippus 
on  the  third  of  the  Saturnalia  t  till  the  seventh  hour, 
being  denied  to  all  visitors,  as  he  was,  I  believe, 
engaged  in  inspecting  accounts  with  Balbus.  He 
afterwards  bathed,  and  listened  to  tlie  verses  respect- 
ing Mamurra  J,  without  changing  countenance.  After 

*  December  18.  f  December  19. 

^  A  native  of  Formiae  and  president  of  the  board  of  works  to 
Casar  in  Gaul,  famous  for  bis  wealth  and  luxury,  and  the  especial 
object  of  the  satire  of  the  poet  Catullus. — See  Pliny,  xxxvi.  17.    . 


this  he  was  anointed,  sat  down  to  supper*,  and  ate 
and  drank  freely,  as  well  he  might,  since  his  enter- 
tainment was  carefully  and  delicately  prepared;  nor 
was  this  all,  for  the  feast  was  seasoned  with  free  and 
agreeable  conversation. '  His  retinue  were  entertained 
at  three  separate  tables.  Nothing  was  wanting  to 
his  freedmen  of  lower  rank  and  slaves.  As  to  the 
freedmen  of  the  higher  order,  they  were  even  feasted 
with  elegance.  Not  to  enlarge  upon  this  subject,  I 
enacted  the  host  as  became  me.  Yet,  he  is  not  the 
kind  of  guest  to  whom  one  would  feel  inclined  to 
say,  '  Favour  me,  I  entreat  you,  with  a  second  visit 
on  your  return.'  We  conversed  upon  no  very  serious 
topics,  but  much  upon  literature.  To  conclude,  he 
was  perfectly  at  his  ease,  and  seemed  highly  gratified. 
He  told  me  he  meant  to  spend  one  day  at  Puteoli, 
and  the  next  at  Baiee.  You  have  now  an  account  of 
this  dreaded  entertainment,  which,  however,  has 
proved  in  the  issue  anything  but  disagreeable.  I 
intend  to  remain  here  a  short  time,  and  then  to  pro- 
ceed to  Tusculanum.  As  Caesar  passed  the  villa  of 
Dolabella,  his  troops  marched  close  to  his  horse, 
both  on  the  right  and  left,  although  they  used  the 
precaution  nowhere  else.  This  information  I  re- 
ceived from  Niciast." 

On  the  last  day  of  the  same  year,  the  consul 
Fabius  Maximus  having  died  suddenly,  Caius  Cani- 
nius  Rebilus  was  elected,  shortly  after  noon,  to  the 
office  by  Caesar,  although  his  dignity  necessarily 
expired  on  the  succeeding  midnight.  The  indigna- 
tion of  Rome  was  excited  to  the  utmost  by  this  new 
instance  of  wanton  contempt  for  all  established  au- 


*  Ad  Attic,  xiii.  52. — Unctus  est,  accubuit,  ifieriichv  agebat. 
This  revolting  custom  seems  to  have  been  almost  as  fashionable  in 
the  days  of  Cicero  as  in  those  of  Vitellius,  apd  only  considered  a 
sign  of  good-fellowship. 

t  Ibid. 


426 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


thority,  and  many  bitter  jests  were  lavished  upon  the 
less  than  ephemeral  honour  which  had  been  conferred 
with  such  little  deference  to  popular  opinion.  Cicero 
was  not  behind-hand  with  his  wonted  tribute  of  irony 
to  an  event  so  well  calculated  to  justify  it.  "  Our 
dictator,"  he  observes  to  his  friend  Curius,  "  after 
taking  the  auspices  for  an  election  by  the  tribes,  held 
one  by  the  centuries,  and  returned,  at  the  seventh 
hour,  a  consul  who  was  to  exercise  his  authority  till 
the  Calends  of  January,  which  commenced  with  the 
following  morning.  Know,  therefore,  that  not  one 
individual  among  us  dined  during  the  whole  time 
that  Caninius  was  consul.  Nor  was  there  a  single 
crime  perpetrated  during  the  same  period,  since  our 
consul  was  endued  with  such  marvellous  vigilance 
as  never  to  sleep  while  invested  with  his  office.  This 
state  of  things  may.  perhaps,  excite  your  laughter ; 
were  you  on  the  spot,  however,  you  would  have 
greater  reason  to  weep*."  For  such  lamentation  there 
existed  at  the  time  more  cause  than  the  writer 
probably  apprehended.  The  famous  Ides  of  March — 
the  flight  of  the  advocates  of  freedom  from  the  city — 
the  temporary  ascendancy  of  Antony  to  the  power 
of  the  deceased  dictator,  and  the  appearance  upon 
the  stage  of  a  more  selfish,  subtle,  and  deadly  foe  to 
Roman  liberty  than  Caesar,  in  his  worst  state,  had 
ever  proved,  were  events  destined  to  be  revealed  by 
the  year,  the  commencement  of  which  announced  the 
close  of  the  consulship  of  Caninius. 

*  Ad  Diversos,  vii.  30. 


1 


y. 


THE   LIFE  OF   CICERO.  427 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Preparations  of  Cesar  for  his  Parthian  Expedition — Conspiracy  of 
Brutus  and  Cassius — Assassination  of  Caesar — Cicero  joins  the 
Conspirators  in  the  Capitol — Apparent  Reconciliation  of  the  two 
Parties — Funeral  of  Cajsar — Insurrection  excited  by  Antony — 
The  Conspirators  fly  from  Rome — Correspondence  between 
Antony  and  Cicero — Octavius  Ca?sar  arrives  in  Italy — He  visits 
Cicero — His  Quarrel  with  Antony — Letter  of  Brutus  and  Cassius 
— Cicero,  deterred  from  attending  the  Proceedings  of  the  Senate, 
resolves  to  retuni  to  Greece — Council  of  the  Conspirators  at  An- 
tium — Philosophical  Works  composed  by  Cicero  in  his  retirement 
—He  embarks  at  Pompeii— Arrives  at  Velia,  and  lands  at  Syra- 
cuse— Determines  on  returning — His  Interview  with  Brutus  at 
Velia — He  arrives  at  Rome — First  Philippic — Reply  of  Antony 
— Second  Philippic — Antony  sets  out  for  Brundusiuni — Octavius 
advances  upon  Rome — Return  of  Antony — Revolt  of  the  fourth 
and  Martial  Legions — Antony  marches  into  Cisalpine  Gaul- 
Third  and  fourth  Philippics — Cicero  composes  his  last  Treatise 
"  De  Officiis." 

The  East,  where  alone,  amidst  the  general  sub- 
mission of  all  other  regions  against  which  they  had 
been  directed,  there  still  remained  a  powerful  barrier 
against  the  arms  of  Rome,  in  the  warlike  Empire, 
wliose  temples  were  decorated  with  the  standards  of 
her  legions,  and  whose  fields  exhibited  the  humili- 
ating spectacle  of  numbers  of  her  captive  veterans 
compelled  to  labour  in  the  condition  of  slaves,  was 
now  the  quarter  to  which  the  general  expectation 
was  directed  ;  in  the  prospect  of  its  affording  a  field 
for  the  exertion  of  those  martial  talents,  on  which 
victory  had  seenled  hitherto  to  wait  as  a  ready 
attendant  wherever  they  had  been  exercised.  All 
things  appeared  to  promise  the  speedy  commencement 
of  a  war,  which,  having  for  its  object  the  avenging  of 
the  death  of  Crassus,  might  be  expected  to  prove 
unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the  world  in  magni- 
tude and  importance— in  the  greatness,  power,  and 


428  THE   LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

reputation  of  the  principal  nations  engaged  in  it,  as 
well  as  in  the  number  of  their  subsidiaries  and  allies. 
On  the  one  side,  the  formidable  bands,  trained  by 
civil  discord,  the  most  terrible,  but  most  efficient, 
nurse  of  military  prowess  and  enterprise,  and  by 
their  previous  services  in  Gaul  and  Britain,  as  well 
as  by  their  campaigns  in  Macedonia,  Egypt,  Africa, 
and  Spain,  to  a  state  of  efficiency  unequalled  at  any 
period  of  the  history  of  their  country,  and  headed  by 
commanders  exceeding  in  ability  all  whose  names 
had  yet  occurred  in  the  long  records  of  Roman  con- 
querors, appeared  to  render  the  success  of  the  in- 
vading force  an  issue  closely  bordering  upon  certainty. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  appalling  aspect  of  Parthian 
warfare, — the  active  horseman  with  his  unerrinsr 
shafts  yet  sternly  occupying  the  path,  red  with  the 
blood  of  Crassus  and  his  baffled  host, — the  sterile 
wastes  beyond  the  Euphrates, — and  the  difficulties  of 
a  march  through  a  country,  every  furlong  of  which 
was  likely  to  be  disputed  by  an  enemy,  who  might 
be  repulsed,  but  could  scarcely  be  defeated,  were 
circumstances  which  might  have  justified  a  temporary 
apprehension  in  the  minds  of  the  most  sanguine  ;  and 
induced  the  least  timorous  to  abandon  all  expect- 
ation of  an  easy  triumph  over  so  redoubted  an 
adversary,  provided  with  such  effijctual  means  of 
defence.  To  his  preparations  for  this  long-planned 
expedition,  Caesar,  wiiose  dreams  were  perhaps  oc- 
cupied by  the  conquests  of  Bacchus  and  Alexander, 
by  the  spicy  forests  and  teeming  plains  of  India— by 
anything,  certainly,  rather  than  the  frowning  circle 
of  unrelenting  enemies  by  which  he  was  shortly  to  be 
surrounded,  and  the  gleaming  daggers  about  to  be 
dyed  in  his  blood,  bent  all  the  resources  of  his  ver- 
satile genius — all  the  energies  of  his  resolute  mind. 
That  he  contemplated  an  absence,  in  whatever  di- 
rection he  might  turn  his  arms,  of  no  short  duration, 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


429 


I 


was  evident,  from  his  appointment  of  the  Roman 
magistrates  for  two  years  ;  Aulus  Hirtius  and  Caius 
Pansa  being  destined  to  succeed  himself  and  Antony, 
the  consuls  of  the  current  year,  and  Decimus  Brutus 
and  Cneius  Plancus  to  follow  next  in  succession. 
His  own  office  as  consul  he  intended,  before  setting 
out  on  his  projected  expedition,  to  confer  upon 
Dolabella,  greatly  to  the  displeasure  of  Antony ;  who 
having  no  inclination  for  such  a  colleague,  with 
whom  he  was  at  the  time  at  such  fierce  and  open 
variance,  as  to  have  accused  him  of  a  design  upon 
the  life  of  the  dictator,  had  threatened,  notwith- 
standing the  risk  he  ran  of  incurring  tlie  displeasure 
of  Csesar,  to  interrupt  the  election  whenever  it  might 
be  appointed  to  take  place.  Having,  as  he  fondly 
imagined,  secured  domestic  tranquillity  by  a  general 
indemnity,  and  having  already  sent  forward  seven- 
teen legions  and  ten  thousand  cavalry  into  Mace- 
donia, nothing  remained  to  delay  his  setting  out  for 
the  purpose  of  directing  their  march  towards  the 
Euphrates,  but  the  absence  of  the  regal  title  with 
which  he  was  desirous  of  being  invested,  before  en- 
tering upon  the  gigantic  plan  of  operations  which  he 
meditated.  At  the  feast  of  the  Lupercal,  the  well- 
known  attempt  of  Mark  Antony  was  made,  in  pre- 
sence of  the  whole  assembled  people  of  Rome,  to 
force  upon  his  acceptance  the  diadem,  which  he 
affected,  with  unsuccessful  duplicity,  to  decline  ;  re- 
ceiving in  return  for  his  refusal,  as  well  as  for  his 
previous  declaration  that  his  title  was  CcBsar  and 
not  king^  much  to  his  mortification,  the  unex- 
pected applause  of  the  gathered  multitude.  A  few 
days  afterwards,  the  tribunes  Marullus  and  Ca?se- 
tius,  having  taken  off  the  crown  placed  upon  his 
statue  in  the  rostra,  and  committed  to  prison  those 
who  had  been  guilty  of  this  overt  act  of  treason 
against  the  majesty  of  the  republic,  were  deposed 


430 


THE  LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


( 


from  their  magistracy,  and  expelled  from  the  senate, 
in  return  for  their  officious  interference  with  the 
ambitious  designs  of  the  dictator.  It  was  finally 
projected  that,  at  the  next  meeting  of  the  senate, 
Cotta,  one  of  the  quindecemviri  or  guardians  of  the 
Sibylline  books,  should  declare,  on  the  strength  of 
certain  prophecies  contained  in  those  pretended 
oracles,  that  the  Parthian  empire  was  destined  to 
be  overthrown  only  by  a  king*.  To  this  assembly, 
therefore,  tlie  friends  of  the  dictator  looked  forw^ard 
with  confidence,  as  the  period  from  which  the  govern- 
ment, long  republican  in  nothing  but  name,  would 
be  openly  declared  to  have  passed  into  the  condition 
of  an  absolute  Monarchy — his  enemies,  as  the  crisis 
when,  if  ever,  the  blow  must  be  struck  for  the  vin- 
dication of  their  country's  freedom. 

The  conspiracy  long  projected  against  him,  and 
precipitated  by  the  late  demonstrations  of  his  real 
intentions,  was  now  so  far  matured  that  a  favourable 
place  and  opportunity  were  alone  expected  for  car- 
rying it  into  eftect.  The  members  of  the  plot  already 
amounted  to  more  than  sixty  in  number,  comprising 
many  whose  lives  had  been  spared  by  the  clemency 
of  the  dictator,  and  some  whom  he  had  loaded  with 
benefits.  The  names  of  those  among  them  who  took 
the  lead  in  their  deliberations,  were  Marcus  Brutus 
and  Caius  Cassius,  both  of  them,  at  the  time, 
invested  by  the  friendship  of  Caesar  with  the  prae- 
torian dignity,  and  afterwards  summoned  from  the 
seat  of  judgment  to  act  a  prominent  part  in  his  assas- 
sination ;  Quintus  Ligarius,  Tullius  Cimber,  Deci- 
mus  Brutus,  Caius  Trebonius,  and  Caius  Casca.  By 
these,  and  the  rest  who  were  privy  to  the  design, 
several  meetings  had  been  held  for  the  purpose  of 
determining  the  spot  upon  which  their  pui*pose  should 
be  executed.  The  Campus  Martins,  during  the  time 
*  Dio,  xliv. — Suetonius,  Jul.  79. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  431 

of  the  comitia — the  Via  Sacra — and  the  entrance  into 
the  theatre,  had  been  severally  mentioned,  and  the 
advantages  towards  the  success  of  the  design  pos- 
sessed by  each  discussed*.  But  when  it  was  known 
that  a  senate  had  been  summoned  to  meet  on  the  Ides 
of  March  in  the  Curia,  close  to  Pompey's  theatre,  all 
diiference  of  opinion  was  at  an  end,  so  exactly  did  the 
opportunity  appear  to  be  suited  to  their  daring  pur- 
pose. All  preparations,  therefore,  having  been  made, 
the  conspirators  waited  in  resolute  composure  for  the 
moment  appointed  for  the  perpetration  of  a  deed,  the 
guilt  of  which  could  only  be  lightened  by  a  consider- 
ation of  the  desperate  condition  of  the  state;  or  vindi- 
cated, after  its  perpetration,  by  the  most  stainless  inte- 
grity in  the  lives  of  those  engaged  in  its  perpetration. 

Cicero  was  no  party  either  directly  or  indirectly 
to  the  conspiracy  against  the  life  of  Caesar;  his  well- 
known  hesitation  and  timidity,  his  tendency  to  raise 
objections  and  to  suggest  difficulties,  being  viewed  as 
sufficient  reasons  for  excluding  him  from  all  partici- 
pation in  so  dangerous  a  secret.  We  find  from  his 
letters  that  he  had  been  admitted  no  long  time  before 
to  an  interview  with  the  dictator,  in  which  the  latter 
repaid,  by  an  elegant  compliment,  (no  doubt  intended 
to  reach  his  ears,)  a  short  delay  to  which  he  had 
been  subjected  in  the  ante-chamber  leading  to  the 
hall  of  audiencet : — "  Can  I  doubt,"  said  the  cour- 
teous usurper,  "  of  my  being  held  in  general  odium, 
when  Marcus  Cicero  is  kept  sitting  without,  and 
denied  access  to  me  at  his  pleasure  ?  If  to  any  one, 
I  should,  at  least,  be  at  all  times  easy  of  access  to 
him  ;  yet,  I  doubt  not,  that  he  regards  me  with  the 
most  bitter  hatred."  Of  his  meeting  about  the  same 
time  with  Cleopatra,  the  famous  queen  of  Egypt, 
then  on  a  visit  to  Caesar,  (whom  she  intended  to 
accompany  on  his  Parthian  expedition,)  and  residing 

*  Suetonius  in  J.  Ceesaie,  cap.  Ixxx.         -f  Ad  Attic,  ^iv.  i. 


432 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


in  his  gardens  upon  the  Tiber,  the  orator  speaks  in 
very  different  terms.  Accustomed  to  all  the  forms 
of  Eastern  servility,  this  crowned  minion  of  succes- 
sive conquerors  seems  to  have  treated  the  noble 
Romans  admitted  to  her  presence  as  the  mere  de- 
pendants of  her  paramour,  and  to  have  expected  from 
them  the  same  deference  which  she  exacted  from  the 
titled  slaves  of  her  own  court.  Cicero,  however, 
appears  to  have  had  especial  cause  of  resentment 
against  her,  on  account  of  her  want  of  liberality 
towards  him,  in  return  for  services  rendered  towards 
her  while  residing  at  Rome,  the  nature  of  which  is 
not  very  clearly  explained.  "  The  queen,"  he  ob- 
serves, subsequently  writing  to  Atticus,  "is  an 
object  of  my  thorough  detestation.  Ammonius, 
who  pledged  himself  for  the  performance  of  her  un- 
dertaking, knows  that  I  have  good  reason  for  my 
displeasure.  Her  promises,  however,  were  only  such 
as  were  perfectly  consistent  with  my  dignity  and 
character  as  a  man  of  letters,  nor  should  I  be  ashamed 
to  proclaim  them  from  the  rostra.  As  to  the  haugh- 
tiness shown  by  the  queen  herself  while  she  was 
living  in  the  gardens  beyond  the  Tiber,  I  cannot 
recall  it  to  mind  without  the  strongest  feelings  of 
resentment.  I  will,  therefore,  have  nothing  to  do 
with  such  a  set,  who  seem  to  think  that  I  possess 
neither  soul  nor  spirit*." 

The  particulars  of  the  famous  action  for  which  the 
Ides  of  March  will  ever  be  memorable  in  history,  are 
too  well  known  to  justify  more  than  the  most  casual 
notice.  After  the  imminent  danger  of  the  discovery 
of  the  whole  plot— after,  according  to  the  credu- 
lous historians  of  later  periods  t,    the   most  awful 

•  Ad  Attic.  XV.  15. 
t  Dio,  xliv.  Plu torch,  in  Cic.     See  also  the  beautiful  passage 
in  Hamlet,   Act  i.,  Scene  1. 

**  In  tlie  most  high  and  palmy  state  of  Rome, 
A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell,*'  &c. 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


433 


warnings  of  a  supernatural  character — days  of  unac- 
countable darkness,  and  nights  replete  with  horror — 
after  the  many  chances  of  escape,  which  almost  seem 
to  have  been  presented  to  the  intended  victim  and 
urged  upon  his  notice  by  a  friendly  power,  desirous 
of  counteracting  the  decrees  of  destiny — the  blow 
was  at  length  struck,  by  which  the  most  illustrious 
of  aspirants  to  arbitrary  dominion  was  offered,  amidst 
circumstances  of  singular  tlieatric  pomp,  like  a 
crowned  and  devoted  sacrifice,  to  the  insulted  liberty 
of  Rome.  Cicero,  although  wholly  unsuspicious  of 
tlie  design,  witnessed,  as  he  tells  us,  with  feelings  of 
the  highest  satisfaction  the  tragic  end  of  the  con- 
queror, upon  whom  his  praises  had  been  so  profusely 
lavished.  The  instant  Caesar  had  breathed  his  last 
at  the  base  of  Pompey's  statue,  Brutus,  amidst  the 
general  panic  and  flight  of  those  of  the  senate  unac- 
quainted wath  the  extent  or  the  object  of  the  con- 
spiracy, waving  his  reeking  weapon,  called  loudly  upon 
the  orator  by  name,  and  congratulated  him  upon  the 
recovery  of  his  country's  freedom.  The  exclamation 
was,  unfortunately,  premature.  By  an  imprudent 
clemency  on  the  part  of  Marcus  Brutus,  against 
which  Cicero  bitterly  inveighs  in  his  epistles,  and 
which,  he  states,  would  never  have  been  shown  if 
his  opinion  had  been  consulted  *,  Antony,  who  had 
been  at  first  destined  to  share  the  fate  of  his  imperial 
colleague,  was  suffered  to  escape.  Just  before  the 
assassination  of  Caesar  he  had  been  drawn  aside  by 
Trebonius,  under  a  pretence  of  consulting  him  upon 

•  Ad  Di versos,  xii.  4.  (to  C.  Cassius)  Vellem  Idibus  Martiis 
me  ad  coenam  invitasses;  reliqniarum  nihil  fuisset.  Nunc  me 
reliquiae  vestrae  cxercent,  et  quidem,  prseter  csetcros  liie. — "  Oh !  that 
you  had  invited  me  to  that  glorious  feast  you  exhibited  on  the  ides 
of  March !  Be  assured  I  would  have  suffered  none  of  it  to  have 
gone  off  untouched.  Whereas,  the  part  you  have  spared  occasions 
me,  above  all  others,  more  trouble  than  you  can  well  imagine,"— 
Mehnoth.     See  also  Ad  Di  versos,  x.  8. 

F  F 


434  THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 

private  business,  to  the  porch  of  the  senate-house, 
and,  after  its  perpetration,  was  unmolested  in  his 
flight,  amidst  the  rest  of  the  terrified  multitude, 
which,  after  divesting  himself  of  his  consular  robes, 
he  effected  with  the  greatest  precipitation,  directing 
his  course  to  the  house  of  a  neighbouring  friend, 
where,  for  the  purpose  of  better  concealment,  he 
hastily  arrayed  himself  in  the  habit  of  a  slave.  By 
this  means  was  preserved  a  politic  and  resolute  leader 
for  the  ensuing  war,  and  a  name  to  act  as  a  rallying 
word  to  the  scattered  Ccesarian  faction,  who  other- 
wise might  have  passively  submitted  to  the  change 
induced  by  the  death  of  their  chief.  Still,  however, 
if  Cicero,  now  unquestionably  the  first  man  in  Rome 
in  dignity  and  reputation,  had  boldly  responded  to 
the  call  of  his  country  speaking  by  the  voice  of 
Brutus,  and  presented  himself  for  the  purpose  of 
assuming  the  helm  of  the  state,  or  of  finishing  by 
his  impassioned  eloquence  the  revolution  begun  by 
the  courage  of  the  republican  party,  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe,  that  the  calamitous  reaction,  by 
which  all  that  had  been  ventured  and  performed  in 
the  cause  of  liberty  was  rendered  ineffectual,  might 
have  been  avoided.  Contenting  himself  with  his 
usual  middle  course,  and  suffering  the  moment  at 
which  his  interference  would  have  been  irresistible  to 
escape  without  improvement,  all  his  after  constancy 
and  self-devotion  were  unable  to  avert  the  conse- 
quences of  his  ill-timed  hesitation.  As  for  the  con- 
spirators  themselves,  beyond  the  grand  object  of  their 
design  they  seem  to  have  projected  no  ulterior  plan 
to  secure  the  results  of  their  hardihood,  nor  to  have 
prepared  any  extraordinary  means  to  place  their  own 
persons  beyond  the  reach  of  danger.  The  only  force 
at  their  immediate  command  consisted  of  a  band  of 
gladiators  belonging  to  Decmius  Brutus,  which, 
before  the  meeting  of  the  senate,  he  had  posted  in 
the  adjoining  theatre,  pretending  to  be  about  to  ex- 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


435 


w 


s\ 


l1 


11 


hibit  them  to  the  people  *.     These  were  immediately 
sent  forward  to  occupy  the  capitol,  while  Brutus  and 
Cassius,  at  the   head   of  their   company,   to  whom 
several  senators  who  had  taken  no  part  in  their  pro- 
ceedings had  now  added  themselves,  from  an  ambi- 
tion of  sharing  in  the  praise  likely  to  be  gained  by 
their  success,  proceeded  to  traverse  the  forum,   and 
several  of  the  principal  streets  of  Rome,  brandishing 
their  blood-stained  swords,  and   loudly  inviting  the 
people  to  rise  for  the  vindication  of  their  freedom. 
This  call   was  very  little  heeded,  since  the  citizens, 
seized  with  a  general  panic,   caused  by  a  rumour, 
originating  among  the   fugitives   from   the   senate- 
house,  that  nothing  less  than  a  general  massacre  was 
intended,    had    now    closely   barricaded   themselves 
within  their  houses,   leaving  all  the  usual  places  of 
public  resort  silent  and  deserted.     Discouraged  by 
this  appearance  of  apathy,   and  dreading  the  inter- 
ference of  numbers  of  the  veterans  of  Caesar,   who 
were  at  the  time  residing  in  the  city  in  expectation 
of  the  grants  of  land  which  had  been  promised  them  at 
their  dismissal  from  service,  as  well  as  of  an  armed 
legion  which  was  quartered  in  the  suburbs  under 
Lepidus,  in  readiness  to  set  out  for  Spain,  the  con- 
federated senators  determined  upon  withdrawing  to 
the  stronghold  in  their  hands,  and  there  awaiting 
the   result   of  their  late   terrible   exploit.       Cicero, 
whose  name  they  had  frequently  proclaimed  during 
their  progress,  as  sanctioning  their  enterprise  by  his 
approbation,  joined  them  in  the  capitol,  and  was  at 
once  admitted  to  that  place  in  their  deliberations, 
which  his  rank  and  talents  deserved. 

In  the  meantime,  the  leaders  of  the  opposite  fac- 
tion were  suffering  under  the  influence  of  a  terror 
which  prevented  them  from  making  use  of  the 
resources  in  their  hands,  being  ignorant  whether  the 


•  Appian,  De  Bello  Civil,  ii. 
F   F   2 


436  THE    LIFE  OF   CICERO. 

death  of  Caesar  was  to  be  considered  as  the  act  of 
the  whole  senate,  and  whether  the  conspiracy  which 
had  thus  suddenly  broken  out  was  not  aided  and  sup- 
ported by  the  great  mass  of  the  citizens,  and  backed 
by  a  force  which  it  would  be  folly  to  resist. 

While  both  parties  thus  stood  aloof,   from  mutual 
feehngs  of  apprehension,   the  inhabitants  of  Rome, 
finding  that  no  injury  was  intended  to  their  property 
or  their  persons,  began   again  to  issue  from  their 
houses,  and  to  collect  in  the  usual  places  of  assembly. 
Cinna,   the  son   of  the  Marian  chief  of  that  name, 
was  the  first  who   ventured  to  harangue   them  in 
favour  of  the  conspirators.     Being  at  the  time  in- 
vested with  the  dignity  of  praetor,  he  publicly  stripped 
his  gown  from  his  shoulders,  declaring  that  he  would 
no  longer  submit  to  wear  the  badges  of  a  usurper;  * 
and  proposed  that  those  who  had  been  instrumental 
in  the  death  of  C\«sar,  should  be  immediately  invited 
to  descend  from  their  advantageous  post,  with  the 
assurance   of    a   safe-conduct.        This   motion    was 
seconded  by  Dolabella,  who  next  appeared  in  public, 
invested  with   the    full  insignia    of    consul,  having 
audaciously  assumed  the  office  with  the  first  infor- 
mation  of  the  fall  of  Capsar.      The  consent  of  the 
people   having  been  obtained,    Brutus  and  Cassius 
ventured  to  leave  the  capitol,  and  address  the  mul- 
titude ;  and  were  heard  with  respect,  although  with 
little  appearance  of  enthusiasm  in  their  cause.     They 
were,   however,  too  cautious  to  entrust  their  safety 
to  any  thing  short  of  the  most  unequivocal  appro- 
bation of  their  countrymen ;   and,  after   concluding 
their  respective    harangues,    returned  again   to  the 
capitol,  to  communicate  the  result  of  their  observa- 
tions to  their  friends. 

On  the  following  day,  Antony  had  regained  suffi- 
cient confidence  to  quit  his  retirement,   and  to  re- 
assume  the  ensigns  of  his^  dignity.     Endowed  with 
*  Appiun,  De  BcHo  Civil,  ii 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


487 


a   consummate  craft,  only  equalled  by  his   daring 
courage  and  abandoned  libertinism,  his  first  object 
was  to  ascertain  the  existing  state  of  popular  opinion, 
and  the  full  extent  of  the  strength  possessed  by  the 
assertors    of  freedom,  before  venturing   to    commit 
himself  by  any  decided  steps  either  for   or  against 
them .     His  expressions  and  conduct  were  accordingly 
marked   by  so  much   moderation,    that   a  friendly 
communication  was  opened  with  him  by  the  con- 
spirators, in  opposition  to  the  urgent  advice  of  Cicero  ; 
who,  aware  of  his  real  sentiments,  and  of  the  per- 
fidiousness  of  his  character,  repeatedly  warned  them 
in  vain  of  the  consequences  of  trusting  to  any  of  his 
promises  or  engagements,  which  he  represented  as 
likely  to  be  observed  only  as  long  as  there  remained 
any   thing   to    be    dreaded    from   their    violation". 
After  several  conferences,  it  was  agreed,  that  a  meet- 
ing of  the  senate  should  be  forthwith  summoned,  to 
debate  upon  the  present  condition  of  the  republic, 
and   the   members  of  both  parties  indiscriminately 
invited  to  attend  it.     Antony,  however,  employed, 
as  Cicero  had  anticipated,  the  interval,  in  acts  of  the 
most  prompt  and  masterly  policy  towards  secunng 
and  augmenting  his  power  and  influence.     One  of 
his  first  steps  was  to  place  a  guard  over  the  enor- 
mous treasure,  amounting  to  about  six  millions  ster- 
ling, which  had  been  deposited  by  the  late  dictator 
in  the  temple  of  Ops.     He  next,  by  means  of  his 
interest  with  Calpurnia,  secured  the  will  and  papers 
of  Caesar.     Lepidus,  with  his  legion,  was  then  ad- 
mitted into  the  city,  and  suffered,  after  occupying 
the  principal  streets  with  detached  bodies  of  soldiery, 
to  establish  his  head-quarters  in  the  forum ;  where 

~~*  Dicebara  illis  in  capitolio  liberatoribus  nostris,  cum  me  ad  te 
vellent  ut  ad  defendendam  rempublicam  te  adhortarer;  quoad 
metuercs  omnia  te  promissurum,  simul  ac  timere  destsses  similem 
iQ  futurum  tui. — Philipp.  ii.  35. 


43S  THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO. 

he  began  to  inveigh  fiercely  against  the  assassins  of 
his  patron,  whose  death  he  at  the  same  time  openly 
and  pathetically  lamented.  Having  thus  contrived 
to  place  himself  in  a  somewhat  more  commanding 
position  than  at  first,  Antony  waited,  without  anxiety 
as  to  its  results,  the  meeting  of  the  senate,  on  which 
the  destinies  of  the  empire  to  a  great  extent  mani- 
festly depended.  This  famous  assembly  was  held 
at  daybreak,  on  the  18th  of  March,  in  the  temple  of 
Tellus.  It  was  then  determined,  partly  by  the 
influence  of  Dolabella,  who  was  apprehensive  of 
being  stripped  of  his  lately  assumed  magistracy,  but 
principally  through  the  able  policy  of  his  colleague, 
that  every  act  and  appointment  of  Caesar  should  be 
confirmed,  and  his  grants  of  land  to  his  veterans 
fully  ratified.  A  general  act  of  amnesty  was  added, 
by  which  all  prosecutions  against  the  parties  con- 
cerned in  his  death  were  expressly  forbidden.  The 
latter  step  was  warmly  advocated  by  Cicero,  who 
took  a  prominent  part  in  the  debate,  although  he 
seems  to  have  been  well  aware  of  the  pernicious  con- 
sequences of  the  preceding  resolutions,  which  he  has 
in  all  probability  been  erroneously  represented  as 
seconding*.  On  the  same  day,  Marcus  Brutus 
harangued  the  assembled  multitude  from  the  steps  of 
the  capitol  in  a  speech  vindicatory  of  the  conduct 
of  his  party,  which  was  received  with  general 
applause ;  and  on  the  day  following,  the  decree  of 
the  senate  having  been  fully  confirmed  by  an  assembly 
of  the  people,  the  conspirators,  after  the  son  of  An- 
tony had  been  placed  in  their  hands  as  a  hostage  for 
their  security,  consented  to  descend  from  their  com- 
manding post.  They  were  received  with  all  outward 
demonstrations  of  confidence  and  amity,    and  after 

*  Quid  enim  tniserius  quam  ea  nos  tueri,  propter  quae  ilium 
oderamus?  Etianine  cousules  et  tribunos  plebis  in  biennium,  quos 
ille  voluit,  &c. — Ad  Attic,  ziv.  6.     Comp.  Die,  xliv. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


439 


the  mutual  exchange  of  civilities,  Cassius  was  invited 
to  a  splendid  entertainment  at  the  house  of  Antony, 
and  Brutus,  at  that  of  Lepidus.  All  external  ap- 
pearances indicated  the  firm  and  peaceful  re-establish- 
ment of  the  constitution.  Beneath  these  outward 
indications  of  concord,  however,  lay,  on  the  part 
of  the  Csesarean  faction,  broken  promises,  violated 
faith,  and  an  ambition  eager  to  break  through  the 
hollow  truce,  to  which  its  hypocrisy  had  only 
stooped,  in  the  hope  of  finding  a  more  easy  prey  in 
its  unsuspicious  victims. 

One  of  the  greatest  acts  of  imprudence  committed 
at  the  late  meeting  of  the  senate  was  the  concession 
of  a  public  funeral  to  the  victim  of  their  resentment. 
Antony   having  previously    published   the    will   of 
Cffisar,  the  legacies  contained  in  which  of  a  largess 
to  each  of  the  inferior  citizens,  and  the  assignment  of 
his  gardens  on  the  Tyber  to  their  use,  were  well 
calculated  to  excite  their  sympathies  for  the  fate  of 
the  donor,  resolved  upon  subjecting  their  feelings  to 
a  further  test  on  the  day  appointed  for  solemnising 
the  final  obsequies  of  the  dictator.     On  this  occasion, 
the  pile  on  which  his  body  was  to  be  consumed 
having  been  first  erected  in  the   Campus    Martins, 
near   the  tomb  of  his  daughter   Julia,    the    corpse 
was  brought  with  imposing  pomp  into  the  forum, 
accompanied  by  an  effigy,   on  which  every  wound 
inflicted   upon  it   was  accurately  depicted.      Here, 
amidst  the  melancholy   strains   of  a  band  of  mu- 
sicians,  skilfully  adapted  to    excite  the  compassion 
upon  which  he  intended  to  work,  Antony,  who  had 
been  permitted  to  pronounce   the    funeral   oration, 
commenced  that  admirable  address  contained  in  the 
pages  of  Dio,*   the  purport  of  which  is  far  better 
known  through  its  condensed,  and,  it  need  scarcely 
be  added,  much  improved  transcript   by   the  great 
monarch  of  dramatic   literature ;  concluding  by  exr 
~        "  MHist.  Rom,  xliv. 


440  THE    LIFE   OF   CICEKO. 

liibiting  first  the  robe  of  the  deceased,  rent  by  the 
daggers  of  his  assassins,  and  deeply  dyed  with  his 
blood ;  and  finally,  the  ghastly  image  which  repre- 
sented his  manorled  remains.  The  multitude,  excited 
to  frenzy  by  the  eloquence  of  the  speaker,  no  less 
than  by  the  artful  means  he  had  adopted  for  heighten- 
ing its  effect,  gave  testimony,  by  a  general  tumult,  to 
the  power  of  Antony  as  an  orator.  The  corpse  of 
Csesar  was  burned  upon  the  spot  by  mean&  of  a  pile 
hastily  constructed  of  materials  collected  from  the 
vicinity,  and  honoured  by  the  oblations  of  the  Roman 
matrons,  as  well  as  of  their  husbands,  who  threw  into 
the  flames  their  most  precious  ornaments  and  fur- 
niture, and  continued  to  supply  the  fire  with  fresh  fuel 
for  several  successive  days.  But  the  excitement  of 
the  populace  did  not  stop  with  this  extravagant  but 
harmless  expression  of  their  regrets.  A  luckless 
Roman  who  happened  to  bear  the  name  of  Cinna, 
being  mistaken  for  the  late  praitor,  was  torn  to  pieces 
in  the  first  transport  of  their  indignation,  and  the 
houses  of  Brutus  and  Cassius  assaulted  with  a  fnry 
which  w^as  only  disappointed  by  the  most  deter- 
mined resolution  of  their  inmates.  Terrified  by 
this  sudden  outbreak  of  popular  resentment,  and  con- 
firmed in  their  impression  that  Rome  was  no  longer 
to  be  regarded  as  a  place  in  which  their  lives  were 
secure,  by  the  representations  of  Antony,  who  assured 
them,  on  the  request  of  Decimus  Brutus  for  a  public 
guard,  that  he  could  not  answer  for  the  extent  to 
which  the  violence  of  the  soldiers  or  of  the  multitude 
might  be  carried  in  their  present  state  of  exaspera- 
tion, the  principal  individuals  engaged  in  the  late 
conspiracy  began  severally  to  quit  the  capital.  Tre- 
bonius  privately  set  out  for  his  province  of  Asia  ; 
Decimus  Brutus  for  Cisalpine  Gaul ;  and  Tullius 
Cimber  for  Bithynia.  Marcus  Brutus  at  the  same 
time  retired  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Lanuvium,  and 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


441 


was  accompanied  in  his  retreat  by  Cassius.  Cicero  was 
not  long  in  following  this  example  ;  and  once  more 
despairing  of  the  fortunes  of  his  country,  withdrew 
to  lament  in  the  seclusion  of  his  villas  that  inevi- 
table ruin  of  the  constitution,  which  he  plainly  saw 
approaching. 

It  was  no  part  of  the  policy  of  Antony,  however, 
yet  to  drive  the  republicans  to  extremities,   or  to 
allow  their  chiefs  an  opportunity  of  kindling  a  war 
in  the  distant  provinces,  while  there    remained   a 
chance  of  lulling  them  into  a  security,  of  which  he 
might  avail  himself,  suddenly  to  oppress  them  nearer 
home.     No  sooner  had  Brutus  and  Cassius  departed 
from  Rome,   than   content  with   the   result  of  his 
experiment  upon  the  public  mind,  he  set  himself  in 
earnest  to  put  a  stop  to  the  existing  tumults  by  a 
prompt   and    vigorous    course  of  action.     He  then 
invited  the  fugitives  to  return  to  the  city,  and  con- 
ducted his  negotiations  with  them  with  so  much  art, 
as  to  induce  them  to  determine  upon  awaiting  the 
result  of  a  second  meeting  of  the  senate,  to  be  held  on 
the    1st  of  June,  for  the  purpose  of  discussing  such 
questions  relative  to  the  settling  of  the  state,  as  still 
remained  undecided.     He  himself  resolved,  as  before, 
to  employ  the   interval   to  his   own  advantage,  by 
making  a  progress  through  Campania,  among  the 
settlements  of  the  veterans  -of  Caesar,  with  the  design 
of  sounding  their  inclinations,  and  attaching  them 
by  liberal  promises  to  his  interests.     As  soon  as  he 
had  set  out  to  carry  this  intention  into  effect,  his 
colleague  Dolabella,  whom   he  had  left  behind  at 
Rome,  began  to  exercise  his  authority  in  favour  of 
the  republican  party  by  a  bolder  course  of  conduct 
than  he  had  hitherto  dared  to  pursue.     A  number  of 
the   members   of  the    Caesarean   faction,   consisting 
chiefly  of  foreigners  and  persons  of  servile  condition, 
continuing  their  endeavours  to  keep  alive  the  recent 


442 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


disturbances,  by  tumultuously  assembling  round  the 
spot  where  the  body  of  Caesar  had  been  burned,  he 
hastily  apprehended  their  ringleaders,  and  having  put 
them  to  death  by  crucifixion,  or  precipitation  from 
the  Tarpeian  rock,  proceeded  to  demolisli  the  column 
of  Numidic  marble  erected  to  the  memory  of  the 
dictator  by  his  admirers,  with  the  imposing  inscrip- 
tion,— "  To  the  Parent  of  his  Country  ;  "  at  which 
the  most  ignorant  of  the  population  of  the  capital 
had,  for  some  time  past,  been  accustomed  to  offer  their 
devotions,  and  to  decide  their  disputes,  as  if  in  the 
presence  of  a  local  deity.  The  spirits  of  the  repub- 
licans were  once  more  raised  by  these  proceedings  to 
a  fallacious  confidence.  The  letter  of  Cicero  to  Dola- 
bella  upon  the  occasion  yet  remains,  in  which  he 
speaks  of  his  patriotism  and  courage  in  the  warmest 
terms  of  eulogy  ;  and  his  correspondence  with 
Atticus  at  the  same  period  shows  how  much  reliance 
he  was  disposed  to  place  in  this  instance  of  severity 
against  some  of  the  least  culpable,  as  well  as  least 
dangerous,  partisans  of  arbitrary  authority.  "  Our 
friend  Brutus,"  he  writes,  "  might  now,  in  my 
opinion,  walk  through  the  forum  with  a  crown  of 
gold  upon  his  head,  without  molestation ;  for  who 
would  dare  to  injure  him  with  the  prospect  of  the 
rock  or  the  cross  before  his  eyes,  especially  since  the 
late  punishments  were  inflicted  amidst  such  general 
tokens  of  approbation  and  applause  on  the  part  of 
the  lower  orders*." 

Under  the  pretence  of  what  was  called  a  free  lega- 
tion, a  kind  of  fictitious  employment  in  the  public 
service,  conferring  neither  honour  nor  emolument, 
but  which  gave  those  who  held  it  the  liberty  of 
absenting  themselves  from  the  meetings  of  the  senate, 
Cicero  had  determined,  before  the  death  of  Caesar, 
upon  proceeding  to  Greece,  to  superintend  the  studies 

•  Ad  Attic,  xiv.  16. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


443 


of  his  son,  w^ho  was  still  residing  at  Athens*.     The 
execution  of  this  plan  was  now  delayed  for  some 
time ;   during  which  he  continued  to  waver  in  his 
determination,   apparently   intending   to    shape   his 
conduct  by  that  of  the  other  members  of  his  party, 
or  by  the  resolutions  which  might  pass  the  senate  at 
their  next  meeting.     The  interval  was  employed  in 
frequent    interviews  and  communications  with    the 
most   influential   persons  of  both  parties,  including 
Matius,    Hirtius,    Pansa,    and   others  of  the    more 
respectable  friends  of  the  dictator.     With  Antony 
himself  he  was  on  sufficient  terms  of  outward  civility, 
as  appears  by  his  correspondence.     That  subtle  de- 
signer, pretending  the  utmost  deference  for  his  opi- 
nions, had  written  to  request  his  consent  to  the  recal 
of    Sextus  Clodius  from    banishment,    representing 
that  Cgesar  had  previously  acceded  to  his  wishes  on 
this  subject,  but  stating  that  he  was  unwilling  to  carry 
out  even  the  design  of  his  late  patron,  if  it  should 
prove  in  opposition  to  the  inclinations  of  Cicero.    This 
manifest    hypocrisy  it  is  to    be  regretted  that  the 
orator  condescended  to  repay  in  the  same  coin.     The 
commencement  of  his  reply,  in  which  he  testifies  the 
greatest  readiness  to  accede  to  a  request  which  he 
had  no  means  of  resisting,  is  thus  worded  : — "  There 
exists  one  reason  why  I  should  have  preferred  a  per- 
sonal interview  on   the  subject  of  your  letter  to  any 
communication  in  writing.     In  the  former  case,  you 
might  have   perceived  my  strong   attachment   and 
friendship  towards  you   expressed   not  only  by  my 
words,  but  in  my  very  countenance  and  looks,  or, 
to  use  a  common  expression,  engraven  on  my  very 
brow.     For  although  I  have  always  been  induced  to 
regard   you   with   esteem,    first  on   account  of  the 
strong  interest  you  have  shown  in  my  welfare,  and 
subsequently  in  consequence  of  the  actual  benefits  I 

•  Ad  Attic.  3siv.  13. 


444 


THE  LIFE  OP  CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


445 


have  received  at  your  hands,  your  public  conduct  at 
this  important  crisis  has  so  far  endeared  you  to  my 
affections,  that  Ino  individual  at  the  present  time 
occupies  a  higher  place  in  them  than  yourself." 
It  is  not  likely  that  either  of  these  practised  diplo- 
matists was  for  a  moment  imposed  upon  by  the  com- 
plimentary professions  of  his  opponent,  or  induced  in 
the  slightest  degree  to  relax  the  wariness  with  which 
he  regarded  the  movements  of  the  adverse  party. 
To  Cicero  Antony  seems  from  the  first  to  have  been 
an  object  of  the  strongest  dislike  and  suspicion,  and 
that  the  feeling  was  reciprocal  may  be  inferred,  as 
well  from  other  circumstances,  as  from  the  connexion 
by  marriage  of  the  latter  with  Fulvia,  the  widow  of 
the  notorious  Clodius,  who  was  not  of  a  disposition 
to  suffer  the  malignant  enmity  of  her  husband  to  rest 
for  want  of  fresh  excitement,  under  the  recollection 
of  her  ancient  causes  of  resentment  against  his  able 
adversary. 

During  these  deep  laid  movements  on  both  sides, 
the  theatre  of  action  was  silently  occupied  by  one, 
who,  contenting  himself  at  first  almost  with  the 
character  of  a  mere  spectator,  was  destined  ultimately 
to  exercise  the  most  important  influence  upon  the 
fortunes  of  his  country,  and,  by  his  superior  cunning 
and  duplicity,  to  carry  off  the  prize  for  which  much 
nobler  disputants  were  contending.  The  name  of 
Octavius,  at  a  later  period,  happily  for  the  world, 
almost  effaced  by  the  lustre  surrounding  the  title  of 
Augustus,  stands  recorded  as  that  of  an  individual  who, 
by  a  singular  inversion  of  the  laws  of  moral  develop- 
ment, possessed  in  youth  all  the  faults  usually  attend- 
ant upon  a  vicious  age, — its  selfishness,  its  deceit,  its 
unimpassioned,  but  not  the  less  terrible,  cruelty, 
and  inflexible  obduracy  of  purpose  in  resentment ; 
to  exhibit  in  his  matured  and  declining  years  many  of 
the  more  generous  qualities  which,  if  at  all  possessed, 


r 


are,  for  the  most  part,  shown  at  an  earlier  period  of 
life.     He  was  the  son  of  Caius  Octavius,  who  had 
reached  the  dignity  of  the  praetorship  of  Macedonia, 
and  of  Atia  the'niece  of  Caesar,  and  was  consequently 
the  great-nephew  of  the  dictator,  by  whom  he  had  been 
left  heir  to  his  name  and  the  greater  part  of  his  pro- 
perty.    His  mother  was  at  this  time  residing  in  Italy 
after  her  second  marriage  with  Marcius  Philippus, 
a  Roman  of  consular  rank  and  of  singular  integrity 
of  character*.     Octavius  himself,  after  making  his 
first  campaign  against  the  sons  of  Pompey,  had  been 
sent  to  Apollonia  in  Epirus,t  to  pursue  his  studies  for 
a  short  time  in  that  city,  and  to  await  there  the 
arrival  of  the  dictator  on  his  way  to  commence  his 
Parthian  expedition,  in  which  it  was  intended  that 
he  should  accompany  him  in  the  capacity  of  his 
master  of  the  horse.     On  receiving  intelligence  of  the 
death  of  Csesar,  and  of  the  purport  of  his  will,  he  de- 
cided, after  a  short  deliberation  with  his  friends,  upon 
setting  out  immediately  for  Italy ;  and  landing  near 
Brundusium,  was  welcomed  by  the  soldiers  stationed 
there  in  garrison  with  such  honours  as  they  imagined 
due  to  the  representative  of  their  deceased  general. 
From  thence  he  proceeded  by  slow  journeys  towards 
Rome,  receiving,  wherever  he  passed,  the  greatest 
marks  of  respect  and  attachment  from  the  veterans 
of  his  uncle,  who  came  in  crowds  to  meet  him  on 
his  way.     At  the  house  of  Philippus,  near  Cumae, 
where  he  was  met  by  his  mother  Atia,  he  was  pre- 
sented by  his  friends  Hirtius  and  Pansa,  the  consuls 
elect,  to  Cicero,  and  the  introduction  to  each  other 
of  these  two  eminent  characters,  the  one  now  about 
to  close  his  distinguished  career,  and  the  other  just 
entering  upon  the    course   of   ambition,  which   he 
was  but  too  successful  in  pursuing,  was  followed  by 
mutual  visits  and  every  indication  of  intimate  friend- 


A 


♦  Suetonius,  in  Octav.  iv. 


•f  Ibid.  viii. 


446  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

ship.  At  their  first  interview^  the  boyish  politician 
seems  to  have  had  no  difficulty  in  imposing,  by  his 
apparent  moderation,  on  the  grey-headed  statesman, 
whose  penetration  into  his  motives  it  was  his  interest 
to  elude;  since  we  find  the  latter  in  his  letters  describing 
him  as  perfectly  ready  to  follow  his  counsels*;  which 
were,  no  doubt,  in  accordance  with  those  of  Atia 
and  Philippus,  both  of  whom  advised  the  future 
emperor  to  content  himself  with  his  private  inhe- 
ritance, and  to  make  no  effi)rt  to  possess  himself  of  his 
uncle's  honours.  But  Cicero  was  not  long  deceived  ; 
and  further  opportunities  of  studying  the  character  of 
his  new  acquaintance  seem  to  have  filled  him  with  the 
greatest  disquietude  and  apprehension  with  regard  to 
his  ultimate  policy  and  conduct: — "Octavius,"  he 
writes,  "  is  still  residing  near  us,  and  treats  me  with 
singular  respect  and  friendship.  By  his  own  attend- 
ants he  is  saluted  bv  the  title  of  Caesar  t,  a  name  which 
Philippus  never  gives  him;  nor,  indeed,  do  I.  A 
good  citizen  I  am  confident  he  can  never  prove,  when 
there  are  so  many  about  him  who  threaten  the  de- 
struction of  our  friends,  and  represent  the  existing 
state  of  affairs  as  intolerable.  What  then  will  be 
the  result  when  the  boy  arrives  at  Rome,  where  our 
deliverers,  even  now,  cannot  be  considered  in  safety  ? 
Happy  they  may  indeed  be,  in  the  consciousness  of  the 
glorious  action  they  have  performed  ;  but  our  cause, 
if  I  mistake  not,  will  be  totally  ruined.  It  is  for 
this  reason  that  I  am  anxious  to  retire  abroad, 
where  I  may  have  no  further  intercourse  with  these 
Pelopidaeij:." 

As  the  day  appointed  for  the  meeting  of  the  senate 

'^'  *  Modo  venit  Octavius  et  quiiicm   in  proximam  villam,  mihi 
totus  deditus. —  Ad  Attic,  xiv.  11. 

t  The  Lex  Curiata,  by  -wbich  Octavius  was  formally  adopted 
into  the  family  of  the  Caesars,  Mas  not  passed  till  the  following 
year.  +  Ad  Attic,  xiv.  12. 


) 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO, 


447 


approached,  the  efforts  of  Antony  were  redoubled  to 
secure  the  means  of  overawing  the  assembly  into  an 
acquiescence  with  such  measures  as  he  intended  to 
lay  before  them.  By  his  possession  of  the  papers  of 
Caesar,  he  was  enabled  to  bring  forward  whatever 
regulations  he  pleased,  as  among  those  acts  of  the  dic- 
tator, which  they  had  absurdly  declared  to  have  all 
the  force  of  laws.  Forged  grants  and  directions  for  the 
sale  of  the  public  lands,  concessions  of  the  freedom  of 
the  state  to  foreign  princes  and  people,  on  the  payment 
of  immense  sums  to  himself  or  to  Fulvia,  and  bribes 
to  those  whom  he  thought  it  necessary  to  gain  over  to 
his  interests,  were  accordingly  multiplied,  in  wanton 
contempt  of  the  common  sense  of  mankind*.  The 
aid  of  Lepidus  had  been  secured  by  the  gift  of  the 
office  of  the  high-priesthood,  vacant  by  the  death  of 
Caesar,  as  well  as  by  an  alliance  with  the  family  of 
Antony  by  a  marriage  with  one  of  his  daughters. 
Dolabella  was  gained  over  by  the  promise  of  the 
rich  province  of  Syria,  which  had  been  destined  by 
Caesar  to  Cains  Cassius  at  the  close  of  his  praetor- 
ship,  and  by  allowing  him,  for  the  purpose  of  liqui- 
dating his  debts,  a  portion  of  the  treasure  in  the  temple 
of  Ops;  which  Antony  now  proceeded,  without 
further  hesitation,  to  remove  and  convert  to  his  own 
purposest,  as  well  as  a  separate  fund,  constituting 
a  great  part  of  the  private  fortune  of  the  dictator, 
which  had  been  entrusted  to  his  care  by  Calpurnia. 

•  By  one  of  these  fictitious  acts,  the  whole  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  island  of  Sicily  were  admitted  to  the  freedom  of  the  city. — 
(Ad  Attic,  xiv.  12).  Ecce  autem  Antonius,  grandi  pecnnia  ac- 
cept&,finxitlegemadictatore  comitiis  latam,qu^Siculi  civesRomaui ; 
cujus  rei  vivo  illo  mentio  nulla. — By  a  similar  instrument,  all  his 
former  dominions  were  restored  to  Deiotarus.  "  It  is  true,"  says 
Cicero,  **  commenting  upon  this  circumstance,  that  there  is  nothing 
which  he  does  not  deserve,  but  not  through  the  interest  of  Fulvia." 
Deiotams  is  said  to  have  undertaken  to  pay  the  sum  of  nearly 
80,000/.  for  the  edict  fabricated  in  his  behalf. 

f  Ad  Attic,  xiv.  14. 


448  Xn^    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

Crowds  of  veteran  soldiers  were  at  the  same  time 
summoned  into  the  city  for  tlie  purpose  of  overawing 
the  senate  by  their  presence.  Alarmed  by  these  pro- 
ceedings, the  republican  leaders  thought  it  necessary, 
before  risking  their  safety  at  Rome,  to  ascertain  from 
Antony  his  real  intentions,  and  accordingly  for- 
warded to  him  an  epistle,  which  is  preserved  among 
the  letters  of  Cicero,  to  the  following  effect : — 

"  BRUTUS  AND  CASSIUS,  PRiETORS,  TO  MARK  ANTONY, 

CONSUL. 

"  "Were  we  not  persuaded  of  your  honourable  and 
friendly  feelings  towards  us,  w^e  should  not  have 
addressed  to  you  the  present  communication,  which, 
under  the  feelings  for  which  we  give  you  credit,  you 
will,  no  doubt,  take  in  good  part.  We  are  informed 
by  letters,  that  great  multitudes  of  veteran  soldiers 
have  already  assembled  at  Rome,  and  that  many 
more  are  expected  to  arrive  on  the  first  of  June  in 
the  city.  We  should  be  acting  unlike  ourselves  did 
we  entertain  either  doubt  or  fear  respecting  your 
intentions.  But,  assuredly,  since  we  have  in  a  mea- 
sure placed  ourselves  in  your  power  by  dismissing,  at 
your  suggestion,  our  adherents  who  came  to  us  from 
the  municipal  towns,  not  only  by  our  open  edict,  but 
by  our  private  letters,  we  may  consider  ourselves  as 
worthy  to  be  admitted  to  your  councils,  especially  in 
such  matters  as  particularly  concern  our  interests. 
It  is  our  request,  therefore,  that  you  would  make  us 
further  acquainted  with  your  designs  respecting  ns, 
and  whether  it  is  your  real  opinion  that  we  can  be 
safe  amidst  such  throngs  of  veteran  troops,  who,  as 
we  hear,  are  already  contemplating  the  re-erection  of 
the  altar  raised  to  the  memory  of  Caesar*,  a  pro- 

•  The  pillar  thrown  down  by  Dolabella.  Dio,  as  well  as  the 
wiiters  of  the  above  epistle,  terms  it  an  altar,  from  the  circiim- 
atance  of  sacrifices  being  offered  before  it  to  the  divinity  of  the 
dictator. 


THE  LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


449 


II 


Deeding  which  no  one  could  desire  or  approve  who 
has  the  slightest  regard  for  our  safety  and  honour. 

"  It  has  plainly  appeared  from  the  event,  that 
we  have  from  the  very  beginning  had  no  other  object  in 
view  than  the  public  tranquillity.  No  one  can  de- 
ceive us  but  yourself,  and  such  a  design  your 
virtue  and  integrity,  we  are  confident,  will  never  allow 
you  to  entertain ;  yet,  that  you  possess  the  power  we 
do  not  deny,  since  we  have  hitherto  implicitly  trusted, 
as  w^e  intend  for  the  future  to  trust,  to  your  honour.  Our 
friends,  however,  entertain  the  greatest  apprehensions 
concerning  us,  since,  well  as  they  are  assured  of 
your  sincerity,  they  cannot  but  recollect  that  a  crowd 
of  veterans  may  much  more  easily  be  impelled  to 
acts  of  violence  by  some  other  individual,  than  re- 
strained by  yourself.  We  request  that  you  will 
return  us  a  full  and  satisfactory  answer.  The  pre- 
text that  the  troops  have  been  ordered  to  meet  at 
Rome,  because  it  is  your  purpose  to  propose,  during 
the  month  of  June,  certain  resolutions  in  their  favour, 
is,  in  the  highest  degree,  trifling  and  frivolous.  As 
you  are  well  aware  that  it  is  no  intention  of  ours 
to  frustrate  your  wishes,  from  whom  else  can  you 
expect  any  opposition  ?  No  one  can  suppose  that 
by  our  precautions  we  show  ourselves  too  much 
attached  to  life,  when  it  is  evident  that  no  misfortune 
can,  at  the  present  crisis,  happen  to  us  without 
involving  the  confusion  of  the  state,  and  destruction 
of  the  constitution*." 

It  does  not  appear  that  to  these  representations  any 
satisfactory  reply  was  made  on  the  part  of  Antony. 
It  is  certain  that  his  preparations  for  occupying  the 
capital  with  an  overwhelming  force  of  soldiery,  pre- 
viously to  the  calends  of  June,  were  in  no  respect 
relaxed  in  consequence  of  the  remonstrance  he  had 
received.     So  alarming  indeed  was  the  aspect  of  affiiirs 

♦  Ad  Diversos,  xi,  2, 
G  G 


il 


450  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

in  Rome  as  the  day  of  meeting  drew  near,  that  many 
of  the  senators  who  were  residing  at  a  distance  deter- 
mined upon  delaying  their  journey  to  the  city,  while 
others  hastily  retired  from  it  into  the  country. 
Cicero,  who  had  set  out  with  the  intention  of  being 
at  Tusculanum  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  May,  and  of 
proceeding  from  thence  to  assist  at  the  opening  of  the 
senate,  received,  as  he  approached  the  capital,  such 
warnings  respecting  the  threatening  conduct  of  the 
troops  mustered  there,  and  of  Antony  himself,  as 
inclined  him  to  turn  back  and  abandon  his  resolution. 
In  this  conduct  he  was  but  imitating  that  of  the  rest  of 
his  party :  Brutus  and  Cassius,  w4th  the  other  friends 
to  the  ancient  constitution,  contenting  themselves  with 
remaining  at  a  distance.  Even  Ilirtius  and  Pansa, 
although  consuls  elect,  and  representatives  of  the 
more  moderate  or  temporising  class  of  politicians, 
were  so  far  terrified  for  their  safety  as  to  resolve 
upon  absenting  themselves  for  the  present  from  Rome. 
Having  thus  obtained,  with  little  trouble,  the  very 
object  of  which  he  was  desirous,  Antony  proceeded, 
with  a  senate  entirely  devoted  to  him,  to  pass  a 
series  of  decrees ;  each  of  which  had  a  tendency  to 
diminish  the  strength  of  those  most  opposed  to  his 
ambitious  projects.  Both  Brutus  and  Cassius  were 
stripped  of  their  governments,  Syria  being  transferred, 
as  a  proconsular  province,  to  Dolabella,  and  Macedonia 
to  Antony  himself,  together  with  the  command  of  the 
army  assembled  by  Caesar  for  the  Parthian  war;  his 
first  use  of  which,  as  it  was  conjectured  from  certain 
hints  which  he  had  dropped,  would  be  to  drive  De- 
cimus  Brutus  from  Cisalpine  Gaul.  As  a  compen- 
sation for  the  more  honourable  offices  of  which  they 
had  thus  summarily  been  deprived,  Cassius  was 
appointed  to  the  inspection  of  the  supplies  of  corn 
from  Sicily,  and  Brutus  invested  with  a  similar  com- 
mission with  respect  to  Asia.     Both  were  considered 


THE   LIFE   OF  CICERO.  451 

as  direct  insults,  and  resented  as  such ;  nor  was  the 
indignation  of  the  parties  subjected  to  these  slights 
allayed  by  the  subsequent  decree,  which  appointed 
the  inferior  province  of  Crete  to  Brutus,  and  that  of 
Cyrene  to  his  colleague.  Disgusted  at  these  pro- 
ceedings, and  induced,  by  the  general  apathy  and 
irresolution  he  saw  around  him,  to  consider  the 
establishment  of  a  second  despotism  in  Rome,  more 
galling  than  the  first,  as  an  unavoidable  evil,  Cicero 
now  wrote  both  to  Antony  and  Dolabella  to  request 
leave  to  retire  into  Greece  by  virtue  of  an  honorary 
legation.  The  latter,  no  doubt  well  pleased  at  the 
prospect  of  his  departure,  courteously  replied  by 
appointing  him  his  own  lieutenant  for  Syria,  a  com- 
mission which  enabled  him  to  extend  indefinitely  the 
term  of  his  absence  from  Italy.  Upon  this  he  deter- 
mined immediately  to  act,  and  at  once  commenced 
his  preparations  for  a  voyage  across  the  Ionian  sea. 
Before  setting  out,  however,  he  was  present  at  a 
general  council  of  the  republican  party,  convoked  at 
Antium  to  deliberate  upon  the  steps  necessary  to  be 
taken  with  respect  to  the  late  decrees  of  the  senate. 
The  principal  persons  assembled  were  Favonius,  Cas- 
sius, and  Brutus,  with  the  wives  of  the  two  latter,  Ter- 
tuUa  and  the  famous  Portia,  together  with  Servilia  the 
mother  of  Brutus;  a  woman  celebrated  as  the  former 
mistress  of  the  great  dictator,  as  well  as  from  the  cir- 
cumstance of  her  having  given  birth  to  the  principal 
conspirator  against  his  life.  At  this  meeting  the  fiery 
spirit  of  Cassius  broke  out  in  a  stem  and  haughty 
refusal  to  accept  the  commission  which  had  been  lately 
offered  him*,  contrary  to  the  advice  of  most  of  those 
present ;   nor  were  bitter  reflections  wanting  upon  his 

•  Hoc  loco,  fortibus  sane  oculis,  Cassius  (Martem  spirare  diceres) 
se  in  Siciliam  non  iturum,  "  Egone  ut  bcnificium  accepisse  in  con- 
tumeliA  ?"  A  masterly  picture,  in  few  words,  of  this  fierce,  but  far 
from  disinterested  republican. — Ad  Attic,  xv.  11. 

G  G  2 


452 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


453 


part  on  the  previous  weakness  and  uncertainty  whicb 
had  characterised  the  movements  of  the  upholders  of 
the  cause  of  liberty,  the  principal  blame  of  which  he 
laid,  whether  justly  or  unjustly,  upon  Decimus  Brutus. 
Nothing  of  consequence,  however,  beyond  the  dis- 
suadinor  Marcus  Brutus  from  venturin^^  to  exhibit 
his  praetorian  games  at  Rome  in  person,  seems  to 
have  been  resolved  upon  to  remedy  the  former  impru- 
dences of  which  all  were  now  fully  sensible,  and  the 
meeting  broke  up  leaving  Cicero  more  desponding 
than  ever  with  respect  to  the  condition  of  the  state  ; 
which  he  compares  to  a  vessel  not  only  shattered  by 
the  tempest,  but  actually  broken  to  pieces  and  strew- 
ing the  waves  with  its  fragments*. 

On  his  return  from  Antium  to  his  Tusculan  villa, 
he  was  rejoiced  by  the  intelligence  of  a  change 
lately  effected  in  the  politics  of  his  nephew^  Quintus ; 
who,  after  having  been  long  considered  one  of  the 
most  zealous  of  the  adherents  of  Antony,  had  refused 
to  be  accessory  to  a  plan  for  seizing  upon  some  strong- 
hold and  proclaiming  him  dictatort,  and  had  passed 
over,  in  disgust  at  his  inordinate  ambition,  to  the 
party  of  Brutus,  to  whom  Cicero,  on  being  convinced 
by  his  protestations  and  conduct,  of  his  sincerity  in 
the  adoption  of  his  new  principles,  subsequently  pre- 
sented him  as  a  valuable  acquisition  to  the  cause.  At 
Tusculanum  he  received,  while  making  his  last  pre- 
parations for  his  journey,  a  farewell  visit  from  Atticus, 
and  seems  to  have  been  much  moved  at  parting  from 
this  long-tried  friend ;  who,  but  for  the  selfishness 
and  indolence  encouraged  by  his  Epicurean  principles, 
failings  which  Cicero  does  not  appear  to  have  had,  at 
all  times,  philosophy  enough  to  condemn,  might  have 
occupied  an  honourable  station  among  the  most  emi- 
nent men  of  his  age,  and  obtained  that  reputation  by 

♦  Ad  Attic.  XV.  11. 

f  Ad  Attic.  XV.  21,  22  ;  xvi.  1  ;  xx\  1. 


i 


1  ii 


the  exercise  of  his  own  abilities,  for  which  he  has  been 
indebted  almost  entirely  to  the  genius  of  his  distin- 
guished correspondent.  The  intimate  acquaintance 
of  both  on  this  occasion  with  the  perilous  condition  of 
the  republic,  the  troubled  aspect  of  affairs,  and  the 
uncertainty  of  their  again  meeting,  when  so  many 
causes  were  in  active  operation  to  prevent  it,  threw  a 
prophetic  melancholy  and  undefined  foreboding  around 
a  separation,  the  pain  of  which  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  repaid  by  any  subsequent  interview. 

During  the  interval  between  the  death  of  Cassar 
and  his  departure  from  Italy,  were  produced  some  of 
the  noblest  of  those  philosophical  disputations,  which, 
if  the  name  of  Cicero  were  unknown  as  that  of  the 
greatest  orator  of  his  country,  would  have  secured 
him  an   immortality  as  by  far   the  most  eminent  « 
among  her  moral  writers.     The  first  of  these  was  his 
celebrated  treatise  upon  "  Old  Age;"  a  work  which 
can  never  be  named  without  reverence,  as  hallowing, 
by    all  the  charms   of  imaginative  eloquence,  that 
period  of  mortal  existence,  which  it  is  impossible  to 
contemplate  without  interest  and  reverence,  whether 
it  is  viewed  in  relation  to  the  past  or  to  the  future, 
to  its  experience  or  to  its  expectations.     The  singu- 
larly judicious  adaptation  of  the  style  to  the  subject, 
although  a  secondary  merit,  is  one  which  is  conspi- 
cuous throughout  the  whole  performance.      Clear, 
harmonious,  and  majestic,  it  is,  at  the  same  time,  as 
beautifully  subdued  as  the  light  of  a  tranquil  sunset, 
which  lingers  around  the  solemn  proportions  of  some 
mighty  edifice,  sanctified  by  the  recollections  of  ages, 
and  slowly  yielding  to  the  hand  of  an  imperceptible 
decay.     It  need  scarcely  be  stated,  that  in  this  treatise 
it  is  attempted  to  show,  that  many  of  the  evils  commonly 
ascribed  to  age,  have  been  falsely  ascribed  to  it,  by 
the  arguments  of  the  principal  speaker,  Cato  the  elder; 
who  is  represented  as  discoursing  upon  the  subject  with 


454 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


his  youthful  auditors,  Scipio  and  Laelius*.  The 
work  probably  next  in  date  was  the  dialogue  entitled 
"  De  Amicitia,"  or  "  Laelius,"  respecting  the  delights 
and  advantages  of  friendship,  intended,  as  it  is  said, 
by  Cicero  as  a  sedative  to  the  angry  passions  of  his 
contemporaries;  but  which,  if  the  representation  is 
well  founded,  notwithstanding  the  numerous  beauties 
which  render  it  a  worthy  companion  to  the  disserta- 
tion preceding  it,  was  as  little  likely  to  produce 
its  intended  effect,  as  the  strains  of  an  exquisitely 
modulated  instrument  to  be  heard  amidst  the  hoarse 
tumult  and  uproar  of  battle.  This  graceful  composition 
(which,  as  well  as  the  "  De  Senectute,"  was  inscribed 
to  Atticus)  was  followed  by  the  famous  inquiry,  "  De 
Natura  Deorum,"  dedicated  to  Marcus  Brutus.  In 
,  the  discussion  of  the  exalted  subject  thus  designated, 
(which  extends  through  three  books,)  the  practical 
infidelity  of  the  Epicureans,  and  their  whole  system 
of  idle  divinities,  and  warring  or  uniting  atoms, 
maintained  by  Caius  Velleius,  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated of  the  school  to  which  he  belonged,  are  over- 
thrown by  Caius  Cotta,  an  Academic  of  equal  cele- 
brity. The  second  contains  the  opinions  of  the  Stoics 
upon  the  same  subject  as  explained  by  Lucius  Balbus, 
and,  after  an  attempt  to  explain  the  strange  panthe- 
istic  idolatry  of  the  sect  of  Zeno,  concludes  with 

*  That  the  "  De  Senectute"  was  written  previously  to  the 
"  De  Divinatione,"  and  l)efore  the  middle  of  May  in  this  year, 
may  be  inferred  from  the  second  book  of  the  latter  treatise  and  from 
Ad  Attic,  xiv.  21.  Yet  how  melancholy  is  the  comment  of  Cicero 
upon  his  own  philosophy,  in  the  epistle  from  which  this  fact  is  ascer- 
tained!— Legendus  mihi  ga>pius  esf'Cato  Major"  ad  te  missus. 
Amariorem  enim  me  senectus  facit :  stomachor  omnia.  Sed  mihi 
quidem  ^efiiunai*  Viderint  juvenes. — *'  I  ought  frequently  to  pe- 
ruse the  work  entitled  *  Cato  Major,*  which  I  sent  to  you  as  an 
antidote  to  that  petulance  and  fretfulness  which  I  perceive  to  grow 
with  my  yeai-s.  Everything  discomposes  me.  My  life  is  now 
drawing  to  a  close,  and  J  relinquish  the  business  and  pleasures  of 
the  world  to  the  young  who  succeed  me," — Melmoth^ 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


455 


several  chapters  of  continuous  and  sublime  eloquence 
upon  the  manifest  signs  of  providence  and  benevo- 
lence inscribed  upon  the  face  of  external   nature; 
which   might  be   admitted  into  any  modern  work 
upon  natural  theology,  without  depreciating  its  cha- 
racter, or  weakening  its  tendency*.     In  the  third, 
Cotta,  in  the  usual  spirit  of  his  school,  without  hazard- 
ing any  afl&rmation  of  his  own,  attempts  to  bring 
forward  a  number  of  ingenious  doubts  and  difficulties 
against  the  system  of  Balbus,  which  was,  indeed,  in 
most  respects  sufficiently  vulnerable.     In  this  man- 
ner the  contest  is  described  as  ending.     The  consider- 
ation of  the  nature  of  the  Divine  essence  led,  not 
unnaturally,  to  the  dissertation  "  De  Divinatione," 
in  which  all  the  arguments   both  for  and   against 
the  doctrine  of  the  prediction  of  future  events,  by 
the   observation   of  omens,   &c.,    are   produced   by 
Cicero  and   his  brother  Quintus,  in  a  conversation 
supposed  to   take   place   in  the  Tusculan   villa   of 
the    former ;    who,    somewhat    inconsistently   with 
his   office   of   augur,    and   with   considerably  more 
common  sense   than   honesty,  impugns   the  Stoical 
opinion  of  the  validity  of  prognostics  of  various  kinds t. 
This  treatise,  which  may  be  considered  among  the 
most  curious  and  entertaining   relics  of  antiquity, 
presents,  in  one  part,  an  additional  point  of  interest, 
by  exhibiting  the  only  remaining  fragment  of  Cicero's 
poem  of  "  Marius,"  which  he  represents  his  brother 
as   quoting   to   himself,    as   in   his  former   treatise 

♦  See  De  Natur^  Deor.  ii.  39—67. 

t  This  difficulty  is  surmounted  with  amusing  candour  in  the 
twelfth  chapter  of  the  second  book  : — Ut  ordiar  ab  haruspiciuft, 
quam  ego  reipublicae  causA,  communisque  religionis  colendam 
censeo  ;  sed  soli  sumus,  &c.  Although  the  orator  plainly  indicates 
that  he  believes  the  whole  art  of  which  he  was  a  professor  to  be  a 
palpable  imposture,  he  thinks  that,  for  state  reasons,  it  ought  to  be 
encouraged;  and; doubtless,  to  convey  no  small  honour  to  those 
qualified  by  the  higher  powers  to  practise  it. 


456  THE    LIFE  OF  CICERO. 

he  had  placed  several  long  passages  of  his  own 
translation  from  Aratus  in  the  mouth  of  Balbus. 
His  work  "  De  Fato,"  which  has  unfortunately 
reached  us  in  an  extremely  dilapidated  condition, 
closed  his  essays  on  a  series  of  subjects  of  a  loftier 
and  more  mysterious  order  than  any  he  had  hitherto 
attempted  to  investigate ;  and  in  some  of  which  we 
may  observe,  perhaps,  the  highest  efforts  of  the  human 
mind  to  obtain  a  correct  apprehension  of  the  Divine 
Nature  without  the  guidance  of  Revelation.  Cicero 
and  his  guest  Hirtius  are  the  speakers  represented 
as  maintaining  the  conversation,  constituting  the 
treatise  concerninor  Fate,  the  scene  of  which  is  laid 
at  the  marine  villa  belonging  to  the  latter,  beau- 
tifully  situated  near  Puteoli,  and  which  he  was  accusr 
tonied  to  designate  his  Academy.  "  The  spot,"  says 
Eustace, — "  the  speakers — both  fated  to  perish  in  so 
short  a  time,  during  the  contests  they  both  foresaw 
and  endeavoured  in  vain  to  avert — were  circumstances 
which  give  a  peculiar  interest  to  this  dialogue,  and 
increase  our  regret  that  it  has  not  reached  us  in  a  less 
mutilated  state."  The  observation  is  no  less  just 
than  elegant.  The  dialogue  "  De  Fato,"  however,  so 
far  as  may  be  judged  from  as  much  of  it  as  is  still 
preserved,  however  interesting  from  its  adventitious 
claims  to  attention,  can  scarcely  be  regarded  as  one 
of  the  ablest  productions  of  Cicero.  The  acute  quali- 
ties of  the  dialectician,  rather  than  the  lofty  specu- 
lations of  the  moralist,  are  brought  to  bear  upon 
a  discussion,  in  which  logic  is  vainly  called  in  to 
measure  wnth  its  puny  span  a  subject,  the  full  com- 
prehension of  which  must  be  reserved  for  the  matured 
and  expanded  intellect  of  a  more  perfect  state  of  ex- 
istence. From  the  evidence  of  his  own  writings  we 
learn  that  the  above  productions  constituted  but  a 
part  of  tlie  literary  labours  of  Cicero  during  the 
spring  and  summer  of  the  memorable  year  distin- 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


437 


guished  by  the  assassination  of  Csesar.  A  secret  his- 
tory of  his  ow-n  times,  and  a  discourse  upon  Glory, 
in  two  books,  were  completed  previous  to  his  quit- 
imo-  Italy*,  and  his  last  and  ablest  ethical  work,  the 
"  De  Officiis,"  projected  and  commenced  by  the  same 
unwearied  genius,  which  may  also,  during  this  inter- 
val of  leisure,  have  been  employed  upon  a  translation 
of  the  Timseus  of  Plato,  of  which  one  or  two  con- 
siderable fragments  still  remain. 

Having  completed  all  arrangements  for  his  voyage, 
he  embarked  at  Pompeii  on  board  a  small  galley 
of  ten  oars,  being  attended  by  two  other  vessels 
of  the  same  size,  and  set  sail  with  the  intention 
of  ao-ain  directing  his  course  along  the  Italian  shore 
as  far  as  Rhegium,  from  whence  he  had  resolved 
upon  crossing  the  Ionian  sea,  in  preference  to^  the 
usual  route  from  Brundusium  to  Dyrrachmm. 
He  left  behind  him,  at  anchor  off  the  coast  of  Cam- 
pania, a  strong  fleet  under  Brutus  and  Cassius,  who 

•  Of  this  work  Dr.  Middleton  observes  in  one  of  bis  notes  :— 
"  Tbe  treatise  here  mentioned  on  Glory,  wbicb  be  sent  soon  after 
to  Atticus  and  published  in  two  books,  was  actually  preserved  and 
subsisting  long  after  the  invention  of  printing,  yet  bappeiied  to 
perish  unhappilv  for  want  of  being  produced  into  light  by  the  help 
of  that  admirable  art.     Raimnndus  Supcrantius  made  a  present  of 
it  to  Petrarch,  who,  as  he  tells  the  story  in  one  of  bis  epistles,  lent 
it  to  his  schoolmaster,  who,  being  old  and  poor,  pawned  it  for  the 
relief  of  his  necessities  into  some  unknown  hand,  whence  Petrarch 
could  never  recover  it,  upon  the  old  man's  death.     About  two  cen- 
turies  after,  it  appeared  lo  have  been  in  the  possession  of  Bernard  us 
.Tustinianus,  and  was  mentioned  in  the  catalogue  of  h.s  books,  which 
he  bequeathed  to  a  monastery  of  nuns;  but,  when  it  could  not  be 
found  in  that  monastery  after  the  strictest  search,  it  was  generally 
believed  that  Petrus  Alcvonius,  who  was  physician  to  that  house, 
and  had  the  free  use  of  the   library,  had  stolen  it,  and,  after  ttan- 
.cribin-  as  much  of  it  as  he  could,  had  destroyed  the  original  for 
fear  of'liscoverv  ;  it  being  observed  by  the  critics  that   m  his  book 
'De  Exilio,'  there  were  many  bright  passages,  not  well  connected 
with  tbe  rest  of  the  work,  which  seemed  to  be  above  his  taste  and 
genius. ' 


458 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


had  been  waiting  for  some  time  for  intelligence  re- 
specting the  expression  of  opinion  on  the  part  of  the 
Roman  people  at  the  Apollinarian  games,  celebrated 
on  the  3d  of  July,  in  the  name  of  the  former.  The 
applause  with  which  they  were  received  appears  to 
have  renewed  the  confidence  of  the  republican  party, 
and  to  hnve  contributed  in  no  slight  degree  towards 
the  resolution  of  Cicero  to  spend  but  a  few  months 
in  Greece,  and,  if  possible,  to  be  at  Rome  at  the 
commencement  of  the  consulate  of  Hirtius  and  Pansa. 
With  a  reluctance,  therefore,  strongly  expressed  in  one 
of  his  letters,  at  being  torn  from  his  favourite  pursuits, 
and  induced  to  encounter  a  voyage,  for  which  there 
no  longer  seemed  to  exist  any  necessity  in  the  shape 
of  danger  to  himself,  he  continued  slowly  to  sail  along 
the  western  coast  of  Italy,  with  his  thoughts  still 
fixed  upon  the  delightful  retirement  of  his  villas  and 
the  society  of  Atticus*.  On  the  19th  of  July  he 
had  reached  Velia,  from  whence  he  wrote  to  his 
friend  Trebatius,  who  was  a  native  of  the  town, 
desiring  him  to  expect  his  return  before  winter,  and 
advising  him  not  to  dispose  of  his  villa  upon  the 
Hales,  the  beautiful  situation  of  which,  as  well  as 
the  recollections  attached  to  it,  since  it  had  once  be- 
longed to  the  noble  family  of  the  Papirii,  appears  to 
have  attracted  his  admiration t.  Upon  weighing 
anchor  from  this  place  he  commenced,  for  the  benefit 

•  Mehercule,  mi  Attici,8aepe  mecum  ff  SeCp'  dShs  <roi  ri  hitporoi ; 
cur  ego  tecum  non  sum  Pcurocellos  Italiae,  villulas  meas,  non  video? 
Sed  id  satis  superque  tecum  me  non  esse  ;  quid  fugientem  ?  periculum 
BC?  Id  nunc  quidem,  nisi  fallor,  nullum  est. — Ad  Attic,  xvi,  6. 
**  But  indeed,  my  dearest  Atticus,  I  often  put  the  question,  of 
what  avail  will  this  voyage  prove  to  me  ?  Why  am  I  not  with  my 
Atticus  ?  Why  lose  sight  of  my  lovely  villas,  the  most  beautiful  of 
Italy  ?  But  enough  and  too  much  of  this.  Why,  my  Atticus, 
an  I  not  with  thee  ?  What  do  I  fly  ?  Danger  ?  If  I  mistake 
not,  the  danger  is  at  present  over.*' — Melmoth. 

•f*  Ad  Diversos,  vii.  20, 


( 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO.  ^^^ 

of  the  same   friend,  as  well  as  for  his  own  amuse- 
ment during  his  voyage,  his  work  upon  the  plan  of 
the  Topics  of  Aristotle,   which  he  afterwards  for- 
warded to   him  from    Rhegium*,   having   had    no 
further  assistance  in  completing  it,  than  such  as  his 
own  recollection  of  the  writings  of  the  philosopher  of 
Stagira  could  supply.     After  passing  through  the 
straits  of  Sicily,  he  had  reached  the  city  of  Syra- 
cuse on  the   1st  of  Augustt ;    from  whence,   after 
remaining  in  the  city  but  a  single  day,  he  again  set 
sail  for  the  port  and  promontory  of  Leucopetra,  in 
the  territory  of  the  Bruttii.     On  the  1 6th  of  August, 
having   probably  been   delayed  by  contrary  winds, 
he  was  standing  out  into  the  main  sea  for  the  island 
of  Corcyra,  when,  after  proceeding  for  about  thirty- 
six  miles,   a  strong  southern  gale  suddenly  arising 
drove  him  back  to  Leucopetra,  where  he  was  induced 
to  take  up  his  residence  in  the  house  of  his  friend 
Valerius,   until  the  weather    should  become   more 
favourable  for  his  voyage.     This  trifling  incident  was 
fated  to    have   a   most   important   effect   upon   his 
future  destiny.     At  Leucopetra  he  was  visited  by  a 
number  of  the  principal  inhabitants  of  the  neighbouring 
city  of  Rhegium,  many  of  whom  had  just  returned 
from  Rome.     By  these  he  was  informed  of  an  unex- 
pected revolution  of  opinion  in  the  capital  in  favour 
of  Brutus  and  Cassius ;  that  both  had  issued  circular 
letters,  requesting  their  friends  to  hasten  thither  on 
the   kalends  of  September,^  when  it  was  believed 
that  Antony  would  be  induced  to  make  such  con- 
cessions  as   would  be  agreeable  to  all  parties  ;  and 
that  his   own   conduct   was   generally    blanaed    in 
neglecting  the  state  at  so  important  a   crisis.     In 

*  Ad  Diversos,  vii.  19. 
t  Ad  Attic,  xvi.  7.     Philip,  i.  3. 

X  The  ordinary  meetings  of  the  senate  took  place  on  the  kalends, 
nones,  and  ides  of  every  month. 


460 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


THE   LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


461 


.-i_i 


460 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


consequence  of  this  intelligence,  his  intention  to 
pursue  his  voyage  to  Greece  was  immediately 
dropped,  and  the  resolution  substituted  for  it  of  re- 
pairing without  delay  to  Rome.  On  the  17th  of 
August,  ajrain  retracinor  his  course,  he  had  once 
more  made  the  harbour  at  Velia,  and  immediately 
after  his  landing  received  a  visit  from  Marcus 
Brutus,  whose  fleet  was  now  lying  in  the  mouth  of 
the  Hales.  The  result  of  his  conference  with  this 
distinguished  personage,  who,  after  warmly  applaud- 
ing his  change  of  purpose,  communicated  to  him  an 
angry  manifesto  and  epistle  lately  issued  against 
himself  and  Cassius,  with  their  joint  reply*,  was  such 

•  The  following  is  a  translation  of  this  document,  which  is  pre- 
served among  the  Familiar  Epistles  of  Cicero  : — 

*'  BRUTUS  AND  CASSIUS,  PILSTORS,  TO  ANTONY,  CONSUL. 

"  We  have  perused  )our  letter,  which,  like  the  manifesto  pre- 
ceding it,  is  filled  with  threats  and  reproaches,  and  by  no  means 
such  a  communication  as  it  becomes  you  to  address  to  us.  We 
have  never  given  you  any  provocation,  Antony,  nor  could  we  have 
conceived  that  it  would  appear  to  you  at  all  surprising,  if  in  our 
public  and  honourable  capacity  as  praitors,  we  thought  it  fit,  by 
our  edict,  to  present  our  demands  to  the  consul.  If  you  are  in- 
dignant at  such  a  proceeding,  allow  us  in  our  turn  to  regret,  that 
the  subject  of  our  request  has  not  been  conceded  to  us  in  our  cha- 
racter as  friends.  We  are  willing  to  give  you  credit  for  honesty 
in  denying  that  you  have  ever  charged  us  with  holding  levies,  ex- 
torting contributions,  endeavouring  to  gain  over  the  soldiery  here  to 
our  interests,  or  sending  missives  abroad  for  the  same  purpose, 
actions  which  we  also  unequivocally  disavow.  Yet  we  cannot  but 
wonder,  that  while  keeping  silence  upon  these  points,  you  have 
preserved  so  little  restraint  over  your  resentment,  as  to  reproach  U8 
for  the  part  we  have  taken  in  the  death  of  Cajsar. 

**  We  leave  it  for  yourself  to  consider  in  what  light  we  ought  to 
consider  the  fact,  that  it  is  not  allowed  the  pneiors  to  give  up 
part  of  their  rights  for  the  sake  of  the  freedom  and  tranquillity  of 
the  state,  without  being  threatened  by  the  consul  with  an  appeal  to 
arms.  In  confidence  ia  such  means  of  intimidation,  be  assured  that 
you  will  be  disappointed.  To  alter  our  opinions  at  the  prospect  of 
danger  we  consider  neither  suitable  nor  becoming  to  our  character, 


1 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO.  461 

as  to  convince  him  that  much  of  the  favourable  in- 
telligence  he  had  received  at  Leucopetra  was  mere 
exaggeration,  and  that  whoever  presented  himself  at 
Rome,  with  the  intention  of  opposing  Antony,  had 
still,  owing  to  the  cowardice  of  the  senate  and  the  - 
presence  of  the  military,  a  perilous  path  to  pursue. 
His  determination,  however,  of  returning  to  the  city 
was  still  unaltered  ;  and,  after  taking  a  final  leave  of 
the  friend  whom  he  was  soon  to  have  the  melancholy 
honour  of  preceding  as  a  sacrifice  to  the  cause  of  that 
sinking  freedom  which  received  its  last  blow  upon 
the   plains  of  Philippi,    he   leisurely   resumed    his 
journey,  which  terminated  at  the  gates  of  Rome  on 
the  last  day  of  August.     His  approach  to  the  city 
was  no  sooner  known,  than  crowds  of  the  principal 
inhabitants,   as  on  former  occasions,  came  forth  to 
meet  him ;  and  so  great  was  the  concourse  around 
the  doors  of  his  house  after  his  arrival,  that  a  whole 
day   was  spent  in   receiving    and   replying   to   the 
compliments  of  those  who  presented  themselves  to 
nor  should  Antony  attempt  to  subject  those  to  an  arbitrary  autho- 
rity by  whose  assistance  he  is  at  present  free, 

*'  If  other  inducements  were  prompting  us  to  the  expedient  of  a 
civil  war,  your  letters  would  have  little  effect  to  prevent  it. 
With  freenaen  threats  must  be  utterly  ineffectual.  You  are  per- 
fectly correct,  however,  in  your  opinion  that  no  one  shall  compel 
us  to  such  a  course,  and  it  is  possibly  under  this  conviction,  that  you 
have  resorted  to  menaces,  in  order  that  the  determination  of  our 
judgment  might  appear  the  result  of  our  timidity. 

*"♦  It  is  our  sincere  desire  that  you  may  occupy  a  great  and 
honourable  station  in  a  free  state,  noi  will  we  by  any  means  invite 
your  enmity.  We  cannot,  however,  but  value  our  own  freedom 
at  a  higher  rate  than  your  friendship.  Consider  attentively  what 
you  are  undertaking,  and  what  strength  you  possess  for  the  attain- 
ment of  your  object ;  nor  let  the  length  of  Caisar's  life  be  so  much 
the  subject  of  your  reflections  as  the  short  duration  of  his  reign. 
We  pray  the  gods  that  your  designs  may  be  salutary  both  for  your 
own  interests  and  those  of  the  state  ;  if  otherwise,  however,  that 
provided  the  honour  and  welfare  of  the  constitution  be  uninjured, 
thev  may  be  as  little  injurious  to  yourself  as  possible. 
^'lAuffust  the  ith." 


462 


THE   LIFE  OF    CICERO. 


congratulate  him  upon  his  presence  at  a  juncture  so 
important  for  the  interests  of  his  country. 

The  power  *  of  Antony  had  been  for  some  time 
considerably  shaken  by  a  rival,  whom,  much  as  he 
had  at  first  been  inclined  to  despise  him,  he  had  now 
learned  to  fear  as  well  as  to  respect.  By  the  exer- 
cise of  similar  determination,  united  with  a  prudence 
far  greater  than  could  have  been  expected  from  his 
years,  the  young  Octavius  had  rapidly  risen  into  an 
estimation  at  least  equal  to  his  own,  among  the 
class  of  men  whom  he  regarded  as  his  principal 
supporters.  Immediately  after  his  arrival  at  Rome, 
the  heir  and  nephew  of  -Caesar  was  produced  by  the 
tribunes  at  a  general  assembly  of  the  people,  and 
received  with  extraordinary  marks  of  popular  favour. 
Soon  afterwards,  having  first  presented  himself 
before  the  praetor  Caius  Antonius,  to  declare  his 
acceptance  of  the  inheritance  which  had  recently 
devolved  upon  him,  he  repaired  to  the  gardens  of 
Pompey,  at  that  time  the  residence  of  Antony,  who 
had  taken  no  notice  whatever  of  his  arrival ;  and 
after  having  been  kept  waiting  a  sufficient  time  to 
allow  him  to  infer  that  his  visit  was  anything  but 
acceptable,  he  was  finally  admitted  into  the  presence 
of  the  consul.  Although  Antony  might  have  been 
in  some  measure  acquainted  with  his  character  by 
previous  rumour,  it  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  he 
was  astonished  and  confounded  by  the  display  of 
courage,  self-confidence,  and  cool  assumption  exhi- 
bited on  this  occasion  by  his  boyish  visitant.  With- 
out any  deference  to  his  age  or  station,  Octavius,  as 
if  he  had  at  once  been  placed  in  the  same  relation  to 
him  as  his  uncle  the  dictator,  commenced  a  review 
of  his  conduct  since  the  death  of  Caesar,  commend- 
ing in  the  tone  of  a  superior  his  policy  in  opposing 
the  thanks  intended  to  have  been  offered  by  the 
senate  to  the  conspirators,  and  his  subsequent  inter- 


THE    LIFE  OF  CICERO.  463 

ference  to  wrest  the  provinces   of  Macedonia   and 
Syria  from  the  hands  of  Brutus  and  Cassius,  but 
blaming  him  in  strong  terms  for  still  allowing  them 
to  hold  any  public  appointments,  but  above  all  for 
suffering  Decimus  Brutus  to  establish  himself  with 
an   armed  force  in   Cisalpine  Gaul.     He  then  de- 
manded the  treasure  which  had  lately  been  removed 
from   the  temple  of  Ops,  in   order  that  he  might 
immediately  pay  to  the  citizens  of  Rome  the  sum,  to 
which  they  were  entitled  under  the  will  of  Caesar. 
The  anger  of  Antony,  already  suppressed  with  diffi- 
culty, while  listening  to  the  stripling,  who  ventured 
to  beard  him  to  his  face  with  expressions  of  censure 
directed  against  his  late  policy,  blazed  forth  at  the 
last  demand,    with    which   he   had   no   longer  the 
power,  and  still  less  the  will,  to  comply.     He  in- 
dignantly reminded  Octavius  that  it   was  owing  to 
his  exertions  alone  that  the  body  of  his  uncle  had  not 
been  dragged  through  the  streets  of  Rome  as  that  of 
a  public  criminal,  or  any  inheritance  whatever  de- 
livered from  confiscation,  and  suffered  to  descend  to 
his  relations.     The  funds  which  Caesar  had  left  in 
the  treasury  he  represented  as  being  likely  to  prove 
due   to   the  state,  in  consequence  of  his   extensive 
diversions  of  the  public  money  to  his  own  use  on 
different  occasions,  and  refused,  until  the  accounts 
of  the  dictator  had  been  regularly  examined,  to  part 
with  any  portion  of  the  sum  which  he  had  secured. 
On  these  terms,  which,  to  the  cost  of  their  contem- 
poraries, were  destined  not  to  prove  permanent,  the 
parties  to   this   unpromising    conference   separated. 
Octavius,  without  showing  the  slightest  embarrass- 
ment at  the  repulse  he  had  received,   began,  under 
the  pretence  of  regard  for  the  honour  of  his  deceased 
relative,   and   of  sympathy  with  the  lower  orders 
of  Rome  under  their  disappointment,  to  expose  his 
own  effects  to  sale,  for  the  purpose  of  paying  part  of 


464 


TUE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


465 


the   legacies  bequeathed    by   his   uncle.      He  had, 

moreover,  the   boldness  to    exhibit  the    shows  and 

games   which  Caesar  had   promised  to  the   people, 

m  commemoration  of  his  victories,    but  which   his 

sudden  death  had  prevented  him  from  superiiitend- 

inty.     Having  thus  secured  the  affection  of  multitudes 

amon^y  the  populace,  he  next  proceeded  to  imitate 

the  example  recently  set  by  Antony,  by  making  a 

progress  among  the  veteran   colonies,    and  bribing 

them   to   the   support   of  his   interests  by    present 

largesses  and  still  more  liberal  promises.     Nor  was 

he  the  only  enemy  against  whom   Antony  was  now 

called  to  make  head.     At  a  meeting  of  the  senate, 

Lucius  Piso,  the  father-in-law  of  Caesar,  a  character 

already  well  known  in  connexion  with  the  earlier 

liistory  of  Cicero,  had  ventured  to  deliver  a  speech 

replete  with  observations  to  his  discredit,   as  well  as 

with  sentiments  favourable  to  the  cause  of  liberty. 

It  was  the  information  of  this  appearance  of  a  new 

ally  among  the  senatorian'  ranks,  whom  he  probably 

considered  as  representing  a  considerable  part  among 

his  order,  which   had  exercised  no  small  influence  in 

inducing  Cicero  to  present  himself  at  Home,  as  now 

rendered   the   most    appropriate   field  in  which   he 

could  exert  his  abilities  for  the  benefit  of  his  party. 

It  has  not  often  happened,  although  in  the  case  of 
Octavius  already  cited,  we  have,  to  a  certain  extent,  an 
instance  of  this  kind  of  inconsistency^,  that  the  general 
moral  temperament  induced  by  youth  and  confirmed 
through  a  series  of  after  years,  has  been  suddenly  altered 
in  the  evening  of  life  so  far  as  to  assume  a  totally  oppo- 
site character.  Still  more  rare  are  the  instances  in  which 
timidity  and  caution,  after  generally  distinguishing 
the  conduct  of  an  individual  until  the  period  of  ad- 
vancino"  aore,  have  been  substituted  for  firmness  and 
courage,  quahties  to  which  from  the  instinct  of  expe* 
rieuce  it  is  almost  nscessarily  opposed.     The  history 


V 


d 


of  Cicero  presents  a  singular  exception  to  the  general 
rule.  Though  weak  and  irresolute  on  many  previous 
occasions,  when  it  was  required  of  him  to  exert 
himself  in  the  face  of  danger;  from  the  moment 
of  his  return  to  Rome  with  the  view  of  opposing 
Antony,  there  is  no  faltering  of  purpose — no  vacilla- 
tion— no  repenting,  or  shrinking  from  his  determina- 
tion— to  be  traced  in  his  political  conduct.  Having, 
finally,  thrown  himself  into  the  breach,  with  the 
resolve  of  defending  it  to  the  last,  he  was  now  not 
to  be  driven  from  it  by  the  actual  occurrence  of 
any  of  the  perils  which  he  appears  to  have  both  pre- 
viously calculated  upon,  and  learned  to  contemn ;  but 
entered  at  once  upon  the  duty  he  had  undertaken 
with  a  vigour  which  must  have  astonished  his  ambi- 
tious opponent ;  who  could  assuredly  have  expected 
no  such  display  of  self-denying  patriotism  from 
any  previous  acquaintance  with  his  disposition. 
On  the  first  day  of  September,  having  ascertained 
that  the  only  business  to  be  brought  before  the  senate 
at  their  assembling  was  the  framing  of  an  enactment 
for  assigning  divine  honours  to  Caesar,  he  absented 
himself  on  the  plea  of  fatigue  and  indisposition,  the 
consequence  of  his  late  journey — an  excuse  which  so 
exasperated  Antony,  who  had  particularly  invited 
him  to  attend,  and  easily  interpreted  his  answer  in 
its  true  sense,  that  he  openly  threatened  in  full  senate 
to  pull  down  his  house  about  his  ears,  at  the  head  of 
a  body  of  workmen,  as  a  fit  punishment  for  his  con- 
tumacy*. This  outrageous  conduct  elicited  from 
Cicero  on  the  day  following,  when  Antony  in  his 
turn  was  absent,  the  admirable  oration  known  as  the 
first  of  his  "  Philippics  f" — the  commencing  peal  of 
that  oratorical  tempest  which  continued  from  this 

*  Plulipp.  V.  7. 
•f*  So  called  from  their  resemblance  in  point  of  severity  to  th^ 
famous  orations  of  Demosthenes  against  Philip  of  Macedon.     The 
title  which  they  have  retained  to  the  present  day,  notwithstanding 

H  H 


466 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


moment  to  rage  almost  uninterruptedly,  until  the 
murderous  swords  of  the  triumvirate  arrested  the 
hand  by  which  it  had  been  so  fearlessly  directed. 
This  speech,  however,  is  rather  a  warning  than  an 
invective.  The  orator  complaining  in  it  of  the  violence 
threatened  by  Antony  on  the  previous  day — protests 
against  the  honours  just  decreed  to  Caesar — returas 
thanks  to  Piso  for  the  spirited  avowal  of  his  senti- 
ments, delivered  a  month  before — mentions  the  abuse 
of  Cassar's  acts  and  the  plunder  of  the  temple  of  Ops 
— and  reminds  the  present  consols  of  the  melancholy 
end  wliich  had  attended  the  dictator,  Jis  a  lesson  upon 
the  superior  advantages  held  out  by  the  exercise  of  a 
just  and  equitable  government  when  compared  with 
those  of  a  lawless  and  arbitrary  despotism.  He 
entreats  them,  in  conclusion,  to  attend  to  the  numerous 
explicit  declarations  lately  given  by  the  Roman  people 
of  dislike  to  their  proceedings,  and  approbation  of  the 
conduct  of  those  who  had  opposed  them — and  ends  by 
asserting  his  determination  of  freely  uttering  his  opin- 
ions upon  all  subjects  connected  with  the  interest  of 
the  state,  if  it  should  be  still  permitted  him  to  do  so, 
without  compromising  his  own  safety  as  well  as  that 
of  his  auditors ;  but,  if  otherwise,  of  reserving,  not  for 
himself,  but  for  the  future  exigences  of  his  coimtry,  a 
life  almost  sufficiently  extended  for  the  glory  of  its 
possessor. 

The  effect  of  this  address,  which  Cicero  had  the 
mortification  of  finding  unseconded  by  the  rest  of  the 
senators,  whom  he  terms  an  assembly  of  slaves  re- 
lieved by  the  presence  of  but  a  single  freeman*,  was 
such  as  to  raise  the  resentment  of  Antony  to  an 
excess  of  fury.     He  immediately,  by  his  authority, 

the  attempt  to  substitute  that  of  "  Antonian  Orations  "  appears  to 
have  been  first  given  them  in  jest  by  Cicero,  in  a  letter  to  Marcus 
Bj-utus  : — "Jam  concedo  ut  vel  Philippic!  vocentur,' quod  tu  qua- 
dam  epistola  jocans  scripsisti.'* — Epis.  21,  from  lirutus  to  Cicero. 
*  Ad  Diversos,  xii.  25,— (to  Comifici«is). 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


467 


adjourned  the  senate  to  the  19th  of  September,  and 
employed  himself  during  the  interval  in  composing 
and  reciting  at  the  villa  of  Scipio,  near  Tibur,  a  speech 
containing  the  most  bitter  and  scandalous  vitupera- 
tions directed  against  the  whole  life  and  character  of 
Cicero*.  This  was  duly  delivered  on  the  assembling 
of  the  senate  on  the  day  appointed,  in  the  temple 
of  Concord  ;  when  the  appearance  of  a  strong  armed 
force  in  attendance  upon  the  consul  confirmed  the 
suspicions  previously  entertained,  that  it  had  been 
by  no  means  his  intention  to  answer  his  adver- 
sary by  words  alone.  By  the  entreaties  of  his 
friends,  who  were  firmly  persuaded  of  the  existence 
of  a  design  against  his  life,  Cicero  w^as  induced, 
although  greatly  against  his  inclination,  to  absent 
himself  on  this  occasion  also  ;  and,  on  receiving  intel- 
ligence of  the  import  of  the  oration  of  Antony  and 
of  the  conduct  which  had  accompanied  it,  to  withdraw 
from  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome  to  his  villas  near 
Naples,  where  he  composed  his  reply — that  mag- 
nificent invective  entitled  the  second  Philippic,  which 
has  received  the  title  of  "  divine"  from  a  writer  in  no 
respect  inclined  to  overrate  its  literary  merits.  In 
this  glowing  manifesto  of  patriotic  indignation  against 
successful  guilt,  which  flashes  from  beginning  to  end 
like  a  fiery  torrent  of  sarcasm,  scorn,  and  terrible 
detestation,  the  previous  career,  from  his  very  boy- 
hood, of  the  portentous  example  of  wickedness  whom 
it  was  intended  io  expose  and  to  punish,  is  arraigned 
and  portrayed  in  the  most  vivid,  though  occasion- 
ally not  the  most  delicate,  colours.  The  orator  touches 
upon  his  licentious  youth — his  expedition,  at  the 
head  of  the  Roman  cavalry,  into  Egypt  under  Gabi- 
nius — his  maladministration  of  office  during  his 
quaestorship — and  his  efforts,  during  his  tribunate,  to 
bring  on  the  civil  war,  of  which  he  asserts  him  to  have 
been  as  much  the  cause  as  Helen  in  ancient  times,  of 

*  Philipp.  V.  7. 
H  H  2 


468 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


the  expedition  against  Troy.     He  draws  an  unsparing 
picture  of  his  disgusting  sensuality  and  tyrannic  violence 
while  left  at  the  head  of  affairs  in  Italy,  during  the 
absence  of  Ciesar— accuses  him  of  being  the  foremost 
in  arms  against  the  cause  of  the  republic  at  Phar- 
salia,  and  of  exercising  the  most  atrocious  cruelties 
upon  those  who  had  escaped  the  shock  of  battle  on 
that  day  of  devastation— assails  his  conduct  on  the 
Lupercalia — his  diversion  of  the  funds  of  Caesar  to 
his  own  purposes— his  manifold  forgeries  of  acts — 
his    instrumentality    in    procuring    divine    honours 
to  be  paid  to  the  memory  of  the  dictator— and  con- 
cludes, amidst  a  dazzling   display  of  animated  elo- 
quence, with  a  touching  allusion  to  his  own  deter- 
mination : — "  I  have  defended  the  constitution  in  my 
youth :   I  will  not  abandon  it  in  my  age.     I  have 
despised  the  swords  of  Catiline  :  I  will  not  shrink  in 
terror  from  yours.     Freely  rather  will  I  offer  my 
own  person  to  the  extremest  hazard,  if  the  liberty  of 
the  state  appear  likely  to  be  revived  by  the  sacrifice. 
If  twenty  years  ago  I  asserted  in  this  very  temple, 
that  death  could  not  happen  immaturely  to  an  indi- 
vidual of  consular  dignity,  how  much  less  so  to  one 
far  advanced  in  years  ?    For  my  own  part.  Conscript 
Fathers,  when  I  consider  the  actions  which  I  have 
performed,  and  the   honours  with  which  they  have 
been  rewarded,  the  termination  of  life  appears  to  me 
an  object  less  of  dread  than  of  desire.     Two  wishes 
alone  remain  to  occupy  my  attention — first,  that,  in 
my  dying  moments,  I  may  leave  the  Roman  people 
free,  the  greatest  blessing  which  can  be  conferred  by 
the  immortal  gods — the  second,  that  each  individual 
may  speedily  receive  the  recompense  which  his  con- 
duct towards  our  republic  deserves."     To  the  reader 
of  the  second  Philippic  it  excites  little  wonder,  con- 
sidering the  poignant  expressions  of  hostility  with 
which  it  is  replete,  to  learn  that  from  the  moment 
of  its  publication,  that  dark  and  unslumbering  ven- 


TKE   LIl^E   OP    CICERO. 


469 


<reance  to  which  he  at  last  fell  a  sacrifice  was  unalter- 
ably sealed  against  its  author  ;  but  few  are  free  from 
a  feeling  of  disappointment  at  finding,  that,  as  in  the 
case  of  "the  best  of  the  orations  against  Verres,  not- 
withstanding its  references  to  an  attentive  auditory, 
and  to  an  adversary  pale  with  rage  and  trembling 
with  conflicting  emotions*,  it  was  never  really  de- 
livered; being  only  circulated  in  the  shape  of  a  political 
pamphlet  to°wards  the  close  of  autumn,  when  the 
absence  of  Antony  from  Rome  appeared,  in  some 
respects,  to  lessen  the  danger  of  his  resentment. 

Shortly  after  the  composition  of  this  oration,  of 
which  copies  were  forwarded  to  both,  Brutus  and 
Cassius  finally  determined  upon  quitting  Italy  for 
the  provinces  of  Syria  and  Macedonia;  in  which,  not- 
withstanding the  late  decrees  to  the  contrary,  they 
w^ere  now  resolved  to  establish  themselves  by  force  of 
arms.     They  were  induced  to  adopt  this  course  in 
consequence  of  a  fresh  disagreement  between  Antony 
and  Octavius,  which  threatened  speedily  to  terminate 
in  an   obstinate  war ;  imagining,  unfortunately  for 
themselves  and  for  the  state,  that  their  most  prudent 
plan  would  be  to  leave,  for  the  present,  the  field  ot 
contention  open  to  the  rival  representatives  of  the 
Cffisarian  faction,  in  order  to  fall  afterwards,  with 
united  forces  carefully  trained  and  organised,  upon 
the  exhausted  victor.     A  late  application  of  Octavius 
for  the  tribunate  had  been  indirectly  opposed  by  an 
edict  of  Antony,  and  the  heir  of  Caesar  was  accused 
of  having  in  return  hired  a  body  of  assassms  to  mur- 
der the  consul  in  his  own  house.     Whether  this  was 
a  false  plot,  prepared  with  the  view  of  throwing  odium 
upon  the  object  of  his  jealousy,  or  a  real  attempt 
upon  his  life,   which   seems  far  from   improbable, 
Antony  soon  afterward3_8etout^for  Brundusiumt, 
~  *  Philipp.  ii.  34.    ■ 

t  On  the  9tbof  October.-See  Ad  Divevfioexii.  23.-toQuint«s 

Coiuificius. 


470 


THE  LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


471 


where  four  legions,  constituting  a  part  of  the  army  once 
intended  for  Caesar's  Parthian  expedition,  had  already 
arrived,  intending  at  the  head  of  this  threatening 
force  speedily  to  return  to  Rome ;  and  having  over- 
powered all  resistance  to  his  authority  in  that  quarter, 
to  expel  Decimus  Brutus  from  his  province,  which, 
by  a  fresh  alteration,  in  defiance  of  the  authority  of 
the  senate,  he  had  caused  to  be  assigned  to  himself  in 
the  place  of  Macedonia,  at  an  assembly  of  the  people 
composed  almost  entirely  of  his  partisans.  On  his  ap- 
proach towards  Brundusiuin  he  was  received  without 
the  walls  by  the  troops  who  had  lately  disembarked 
with  all  military  honours,  but,  after  this  single  mark  of 
respect,  found  the  legions,  from  which  he  had  expected 
a  clamorous  welcome,  disposed  to  maintain  an  ominous 
reserve,  until  they  had  heard  what  terms  were  pro- 
posed for  the  assistance  of  their  swords  in  removing 
the  obstacles  in  his  way  to  absolute  power.  When, 
in  the  usual  harangue  with  which  a  Roman  general 
was  accustomed  to  address  his  soldiers  after  his  arrival 
in  their  camp,  he  mentioned  his  intention  of  presenting 
each  man,  in  the  prospect  of  his  future  services,  with 
four  hundred  sestertii*,  a  sum  amounting  only  to 
three  or  four  pounds  sterling,  a  general  tumult,  ac- 
companied with  pointed  expressions  of  derision, 
testified  the  disappointment  of  the  legionaries  at  a 
promise  which  fell  so  far  short  of  their  expectations. 
On  his  proceeding  to  reproach  them  for  their  inso- 
lence, he  was  still  further  exasperated  to  observe 
most  of  the  cohorts  composing  three  of  the  legions 
present,  headed  by  their  ofiicers,  begin  to  defile  in 
regular  order  from  the  ground  before  he  had  finished 
his  address.  This  appearance  of  a  mutinous  spirit  was 
followed  by  a  frightful  specimen  of  his  vindictive 
temper.  Ordering  about  three  hundred  centurions  and 
privates,  whom  he  suspected  of  having  been  especially 
instrumental  in  exciting  the  disaffection  of  the  rest,  to 

*~Dio,  xlv, 


i 


be  instantly  arrested,  he  stood  looking  sternly  on 
while  they  were  successively  massacred  before  his 
eyes.  His  wife  Fulvia  is  also  recorded  to  have  been 
present  at  the  fearful  spectacle,  and  to  have  inspected 
the  executions  with  such  eager  curiosity,  that  her 
garments  were  deeply  stained  with  the  blood  of  the 
dying.  This  cruelty,  however,  was  productive  of  little 
advantage  to  his  cause.  Although,  on  his  subsequent 
attempt  to  offer  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  his 
conduct  to  his  soldiers,  the  donation  which  he  had  at 
first  proffered  was  received,  and  the  new  officers  he 
had  appointed  to  command  them  for  the  present 
obeyed,  the  seeds  of  disaffection  were  only  smothered 
for  a  short  time,  to  break  out  afterwards  in  a  more 
serious  revolt.  The  three  legions  which  had  suffered 
so  severely  for  their  discontent,  were  ordered  to  pro-, 
ceed  along  the  coast  of  the  Adriatic  towards  Ari- 
minum.  With  the  one  remaining,  and  that  composed 
of  the  Gallic  soldiers,  known  by  the  military  so- 
briquet of  the  Alaudae*,  or  Larks,  (from  the  plumes 
upon  their  helmets  being  disposed  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  resemble,  in  some  measure,  the  crests  of  these 
birds,)  together  with  a  considerable  body  of  chosen 
cavalry,  he  again  repaired  to  Rome. 

Octavius  had  not  in  the  mean  time  been  idle.  By 
dint  of  lavish  donations,  amounting,  in  some  instances, 
to  no  less  than  sixteen  pounds  sterling  per  man,  he 
had  attracted  to  his  standards  all  the  veterans  from 
Casilinum,  Calatia,  Capua,  and  other  military  settle- 
ments. In  most  of  his  movements  he  now  pretended  to 

*  Philipp.  iii,  2  ;  Dio,  xlv. 
f  Originally  raised  by  Julius  Cfpsar,  who  afterwards  conferred 
upon  all  the  soldiers  who  constituted  it  the  freedom  of  the  city. 
From  this  legion  Antony,  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  army,  had 
selected  a  number  of  persons  to  act  as  judges  conjointly  with 
the  knights  and  senators. — "  In  judicc  spectari  et  fortuna  debet  et 
dignitas."     Non  quaero,  inquit,  ista  :  addo  etiam  judiccs  manipu- 

lares  ex  legione  Alaudarum Phil.i.  9.    See,  also,  Ad  Attic,  xvj. 

8  ;  Plin.  Hist.  Nat.  xi.  37  ;  and  Sueton.  in  Jul.  Gws.  24. 


472 


TttE   LIFE  OP   CICERO. 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


473 


be  guided  by  Cicero,  who,  however,  does  not  seem 
to  have  been  more  than  half  deceived  by  this  outward 
show  of  deference.  In  several  of  his  letters  to  Atticus 
he  mentions  communications  in  which  his  advice 
had  been  demanded,  as  to  whether  it  would  be  more 
advantageous  to  make  an  attempt  to  stop  the  march 
of  Antony  at  Capua  with  the  three  thousand  veterans 
who  had  assumed  arms  against  him,  or  to  advance 
them  at  once  towards  Rome*.  "  I  have  letters  every 
day,"  he  asserts  on  one  occasion,  "  from  Octavianus, 
requesting  me  to  exert  myself  in  his  cause,  to  join 
him  at  Capua,  and  a  second  time  to  preserve  the 
state  from  destruction.  He  intends  to  advance  imme- 
diately upon  Rome.  In  his  present,  no  less  than  in 
his  past  conduct,  he  shows  vigour  enough.  Yet, 
after  all,  he  is  a  mere  boy.  He  counsels  the  as- 
sembling of  a  senate  immediately.  Who  would 
attend  it  ?  or  who,  if  ho  did  attend,  in  the  present 
uncertainty  of  affairs  would  run  the  risk  of  dis- 
pleasing Antony  ?  By  the  calends  of  January  he 
may  be  strong  enough  to  protect  us,  or  before  that 
time  the  contest  may  be  finished.  The  youth  is 
wonderfully  in  favour  among  the  municipal  towns. 
While  on  his  way  into  Samnium  he  stopped  at  Cales 
and  Tbeanum.  The  numbers  who  met  him  there, 
and  the  marks  of  encouragement  be  received,  were 
quite  astonishing.  Could  you  have  thought  it  pos- 
sible? To  me  this  will  l)e  an  additional  induce- 
ment to  be  at  Rome  much  sooner  than  I  had  in- 
tended.t" 

Both  parties  were  now  in  full  march  for  the  capital. 
Octavius  having  first  arrived,  was  allowed  to  secure 
the  temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  and  to  harangue  the 
multitude  assembled  in  the  area  before  it,  being  first 
formally  introduced  to  them  by  the  tribunes;  but  hav- 
ing offended  the  military  stationed  in  the  city  by  too 
direct  an  avowal  of  his  respect  for  the  civil  authority. 


t\ 


and  too  violent  a  declaration  against  Antony,  he  was 
not  only  unsuccessful  in  gaining  fresh  recruits,  but 
even  deserted  by  many  who  had  already  declared  for 
him.  Antony  soon  afterwards  appeared  beneath  the 
walls,  and  being  also  admitted  into  the  city,  pro- 
ceeded, after  having  quartered  his  cavalry  in  the 
suburbs,  towards  his  house,  with  an  imposing  body- 
guard ;  and  by  virtue  of  his  office  issued  an  imme- 
diate summons  for  the  senate  to  assemble  on  the 
twenty-fourth  of  September,  declaring,  that  vrhosoever 
should  absent  himself  on  that  day,  should  be  con- 
sidered accessory  to  a  plot  which  he  pretended  to 
have  recently  discovered,  against  his  own  life,  and  thC 
safety  of  the  commonwealth.  As  he  had  lately  ful- 
minated several  opprobrious  edicts  against  Octavius, 
whom  he  designated  by  the  title  of  Spartacus*,  it 
was  imagined  that  it  was  his  intention  to  take 
severe  measures  against  his  rival,  who  had,  in  the 
mean  time,  after  ordering  fresh  levies  to  be  made  in 
Etruria,  prudently  retired  to  Alba ;  as  well  as  against 
Quintus  Cicero  the  younger,  who  was  violently 
assailed  in  the  same  proclamations  as  the  intended 
murderer  both  of  his  father  and  uncle  t ;  a  distinction 
which  he  probably  owed  to  a  promise,  afterwards 
more  openly  expressed,  of  formally  bringing  the 
consul  to  account  before  the  people  for  his  spoliation 
of  the  temple  of  Ops.  Antony,  however,  after  ad- 
journing the  proposed  meeting  from  the  twenty- 
fourth  to  the  twenty-eighth  of  the  month,  was  pre- 
vented from  carrying  any  of  his  intended  designs  into 
effect  on  that  occasion  by  unexpected  and  alarming  ' 
intelligence,  which  produced  an  immediate  change  in 
his  position  and  prospects,  \yhile  he  was  in  the 
very  act  of  entering  the  porch  of  the  senate-house  he 
was  met  by  especial  messengers,  who  informed  him 
that  the  Fourth  and  Martial  legions,  constituting  part 
of  the   force  which  had   suffered  from  his  fury  at 


•  Ad  Attic  xYi.  8,  9. 


•^  Ad  Attic,  xvi.  11. 


♦  Philipp,  iii.  8, 


t  Ibid.  7. 


474  THE   LIFE   OF   CICEUO. 

Brundusium,  had  revolted,  and  strongly  fortified 
themselves  at  Alba,  after  openly  declaring  in  favour 
of  Octavius.  The  news  thus  communicated  induced 
him,  after  a  hurried  meeting  of  the  senate,  at  which 
nothing  of  consequence  was  determined,  to  change  on 
the  same  evening  his  consular  robes  for  a  military 
habit,  and,  at  the  head  of  the  two  legions  which  yet 
remained  firm  to  his  interests,  to  advance  hastily 
towards  Alba,  in  the  hope  of  finding  the  mutineers  who 
occupied  it  sufficiently  off  their  guard  to  enable  him 
to  surprise  their  post  by  a  vigorous  assault.  He 
was,  however,  received,  on  his  attempting  to  carry  his 
purpose  into  effect,  by  such  a  tempest  of  missiles,  as 
speedily  induced  him  to  withdraw  his  troops  in  con- 
fusion*. Disheartened  by  his  useless  effort,  he  con- 
tinued, for  a  few  days  afterwards,  inactively  encamped 
at  Tibur,  chiefly  with  the  design  of  calling  in  his  de- 
tached parties  before  setting  out  for  Cisalpine  Gaul ; 
towards  which  province  he  had  now  resolved  upon 
directing  his  march,  hoping,  by  immediately  entering 
upon  active  operations,  to  prevent  the  spirit  of  dis- 
affection from  spreading  further  amongst  his  sol- 
diery. The  citizens  of  Rome,  being  wholly  ignorant 
of  his  intentions,  had,  in  the  mean  time,  remained 
in  hourly  apprehension  of  his  return,  and  a  general 
joy  was  diffused  through  the  <3ity,  when  it  was  at 
length  ascertained  that  he  had  stiiick  his  tents,  and 
was  apparently  marching  in  the  direction  of  Ari- 
minum.  Octavius,  still  pretending  an  entire  sub- 
servience to  the  authority  of  the  senate,  but  regarded, 
notwithstanding,  with  well-grounded  distrust  of  his 
inclination  towards  them,  shortly  afterwards  reported 
that  he  had  now  neasly  completed  an  army  of  five 
legions,  and  that  he  had  also  sent  a  message  to 
Decimus  Brutus,  desiring  him  to  stand  his  ground 
resolutely  in  Gaul  until  he  should  be  able  to  come 
up  to  his  assistance.  Cicero^  at  the  same  time, 
*  Appian.  De  Bell.  Civil,  iii. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  475 

learning  that  the  city  was  now  entirely  free  from  the 
soldiers  of  his  adversary,  ventured  to  appear  again  at 
Rome,  to  which  we  find,  from  his  epistles,  that  he 
returned  on  the  ninth  of  December* ;  and  on  the 
nineteenth  of  the  same  month  t,  at  an  assembly  of 
the  senate  summoned  by  the  tribunes  of  the  people, 
(in  which  a  manifesto  of  Decimus  Brutus  was  pro- 
duced, complaining  of  the  invasion  of  his  province,) 
delivered  his  third  Philippic,  immediately  followed 
by  the  fourth,  which  was  pronounced  from  the  rostra 
before  the  Roman  people.  The  principal  intention  of 
the  orator  in  the  former  of  these  speeches  is  to  praise 
the  conduct  of  Octavius,  (who  was  at  the  time  present, 
and  had  distinguished  himself  by  an  harangue  in 
favour  of  Brutus,)  and  to  recommend  that  all  his  late 
actions  should  be  sanctioned  by  public  authority,  He 
advises  also  that  the  most  prompt  and  rigorous  mea- 
sures should  be  at  once  taken  against  the  individual 
who  had  recently  threatened  the  destruction  of  the 
state — that  their  respective  provinces  of  Further  and 
Hither  Gaul,  should  be  decreed  to  Decimus  Brutus 
and  Plancus,  their  present  governors,  for  another  year — 
that  the  public  thanks  and  promises  of  reward  should 
be  given  to  the  Martial  and  fourth  legions,  and  to 
Egnatuleius,  the  commander  of  the  latter,  for  their 
eminent  services — and  that  the  consuls  elect,  Hirtius 
and  Pansa,  should  be  instructed  to  take  measures  for 
the  safe  assembling  of  the  senate  on  the  calends  of 
January  next  ensuing,  and  to  make  a  fresh  motion 
to  that  meeting  at  its  first  assembling  upon  the  sub- 
jects which  had  just  been  brought  under  discussion. 
In  his  speech  to  the  people  he  gives  an  account  of  the 
decrees  which  had  just  been  passed  at  his  suggestion, 
and  adds  the  most  powerful  denunciations  against 

*  Ad  Diversos  xi.  5. — An  epistle  to  Deciraua  Brutus,  in  which 
he  exhorts  him,  by  the  most  earnest  and  eloquent  adjurations,  to 
remain  firm  in  his  opposition  to  Antony,  representing  the  occupa- 
tion of  Gaul  by  the  latter  as  the  last  blow  to  the  liberties  of  Rome. 

f  Ad  Diversos  xi.  6,  addressed  to  the  same  individual. 


476 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


Antony,  as  one  fully  equal  to  Catiline  in  wickedness, 
although  inferior  to  him  in  ability  and  promptitude, 
already  in  effect  declared  a  public  enemy,  and  des- 
tined by  evident  omens,  and  other  infallible  signs  of 
divine  displeasure,  to  a  speedy  downfall*. 

These  orations  closed  the  public  efforts  of  Cicero 
during  one  of  the  most  laborious  years  in  his  active 
existence.  Shortly  after  they  were  delivered,  Octa- 
vius,  decamping  from  Alba,  set  his  forces  in  motion 
upon  the  track  of  Antony,  for  the  purpose  of  hanging 
upon  his  rear  and  watching  his  movements,  until  the 
arrival  of  the  expected  reinforcements  under  Hirtius 
and  Pansa.  The  Roman  sword  was,  in  the  mean 
time,  already  reddened  with  kindred  blood  in  Cisalpine 
Gaul.  Decimus  Brutus,  after  having  sent  repeated 
messages  to  Antony,  demanding  the  purport  of  his  pre- 
sence in  arms  in  his  province,  and  having  only  received 
orders  in  return  immediately  to  abandon  it  to  the 
governor  appointed  by  the  people,  either  finding 
himself  unable  to  oppose  the  invaders  in  the  field,  or 
being  unwilling  to  hazard  a  general  engagement  until 
the  forces  under  Octavius  and  the  Roman  consuls 
should  enable  him  to  give  battle  with  an  overpower- 
ing supeiyority  of  numbers,  had  thrown  himself,  with 
two  legions,  into  Mutina  ;  to  which  Antony,  having 
previously  secured  the  towns  of  Bononia  and  Cla- 
terna,  began  to  lay  fierce  and  earnest  siege ;  neglecting 
none  of  the  means  of  attack  then  usually  employed 
against  fortified  towns,  and  adding  to  each  the  full 
impulse  of  his  hardy  and  enterprising  genius.  To 
this  city  the  eyes  of  men  were  accordingly  directed, 
as  to  a  stage  where  the  liberties  of  Rome,  which  had 
latterly  been  in  so  hazardous  a  state  of  fluctuation, 
must  be  recovered  or  ruined  by  the  first  success  of 
either  of  the  parties  hastening  to  action. 

During  the  time  of  Cicero's  retirement  in  order  to 
avoid  the  violence  of  Antony,  a  great  part  of  his 

*  Poilipp.  iv.  4,  6. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


477 


leisure  was  employed  in  the  production  of  his  "Para- 
doxes"— a  number  of  theses  devoted  to  investigating 
the  less  common  principles  of  the  Stoical  philosophy, 
and  in  finishing  the  last  and  most  admirable  of  his 
moral  works,    his    imperishable   treatise   upon   the 
whole   circle  of  the   duties   of  social  life,  generally 
known  as  the  "De  Officiis,"  composed  in  three  books, 
and  dedicated  to  his  son  Marcus,  for  whose  use  it  was 
principally  intended,  and  who  was  at  the  time  devoting 
his  attention  to  philosophy  under  Cratippus,  of  Mity- 
lene*.     The   beauty,    both   of  the   conception    and 
execution  in  this  celebrated  dissertation — the  exalted 
character  of  its  views  of  the  virtues  of  benevolence  and 
justice — its  true  appreciation  of  as  much  of  the  laws 
of  moral  obligation  as  lies  within  the  grasp  of  reason, 
and  the  comparative  purity  of  the  system  of  conduct 
which  it  enjoins,  have  never  yet  been  regarded  by  the 
wisest  without  approbation  or  by  the  best  without 
esteem;  and  have  sometimes  caused  it  to  be  considered 
by  its  ardent  admirers  almost  as  the  faint  reflex  of  that 
sun  of  Revelation  which  was  now  rapidly  approaching 
the  horizon.     Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  its 
moral   character,  however,   its  merits  in  a  literary 
point  of  view  cannot  easily  be  exaggerated.     On  the 
whole,  indeed,  it    is  a  composition  which   is    fully 
worthy  of  being  the  closing  work  of  Cicero — the  final 
legacy  of  the  most  illustrious  of  Romans,  in  the  ela- 
quence  of  the  closet  as  well  as  that  of  the  senate  and 
the  forum,  to  a  far  from  unlettered  age— the  last  link 
in  that  golden  chain  of  works,  rich  with  the  wealth  of 
imagination,  and  stamped  with  the  vital  impress  of 
free  and  vigorous  thought;  the  general  tenor   and 
effect  of  which,  owing  to  the  consummate  skill  of 
the  writer,   continue,  long  after  a  familiarity  with 
their  details  may  have  ceased,  to  dwell,  like  some  old 
but  unforgotten  melody,  upon  the  mind  and  remem- 
brance of  their  readers. 

•  De  Officiis,  iTTT" 


478 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE   LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


479 


Consulate  of  Hirtius  and  Pansa — Fifth,  Sixth,  and  Seventh  Phi- 
lippics— Departure  of  the  Ambassadors  of  the  Senate  for  the 
Camp  of  Antony — Eighth  and  Ninth  Philippics — Successes  of 
Brutus  in  Macedonia — Teuth  Philippic — Death  of  Caius  Trebo- 
nius — Dolabella  declared  a  public  Enemy — Twelfth  Philippic 
—General  Posture  of  Affairs  in  the  Provinces — The  Consul 
Pansa  marches  into  Gaul — Letter  of  Antony  to  Ilirtius  and 
Octavius — Ijepidus  writes  to  the  Senate — Thirteenth  Philippic — 
Pansa  attempts  to  effect  a  Junction  with  the  Army  of  Hirtius — 
Battle  of  Forum  Gallorum — Antony  retreats  to  his  Lines  before 
Mutina — Fourteenth  Philippic — Antony  attacked  in  his  En- 
trenchments and  defeated — Death  of  Hirtius — Antony  raises  the 
Siege  of  Mutina  and  retreats  towards  the  Alps — Successes  of  the 
Party  of  the  Senate  under  Cassius,  in  Syria. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  calends  of  January  of  the 
year  711,  a  year  in  which  the  annals  of  Rome 
display  the  last  of  the  series  of  her  presiding  ma- 
gistrates freely  elected,  in  the  names  of  Hirtius 
and  Pansa,  the  new  consuls  having  performed  the 
usual  sacrifices  proceeded,  in  the  midA  of  a  full  atten- 
dance of  senators  convened  in  the  Capitol*,  to  lay 
before  them  the  general  condition  of  the  republic, 
and  more  particularly  to  invite  the  expression  of  their 
opinion  respecting  the  conduct  of  Antony  in  laying 
siege  to  Mutina,  as  well  as  on  the  subject  of  the 
rewards  which  had  been  decreed  in  the  preceding 
month,  to  Octavius,  Decimus  Brutus,  and  the  soldiers 
of  the  fourth  and  Martial  legions.  These  points  of 
discussion  were  introduced  by  both  the  consuls  in 
formal  orations,  declaratory  of  their  intention  of  sup- 
porting the  liberties  of  their  country  to  the  last, 
against  all  opponents,  and  exhorting  their  audience 
to  exhibit  a  similar  display  of  constancy.  Quintus 
Fufius  Calenus,  the  father-in-law  of  Pansa,  who  had, 
by  the  nomination  of  Caesar,  been  elected  four  years 
previously,  to  the  consulate,  a  senator  known  to  be 
*  Appian.  De  Bell.  Civil,  iii. ;  Dio,  xlv. 


I 

1 


in  the  interests  of  Antony,  was  then,  in  the   usual 
form,  desired  to  pronounce  his  opinion,   and  to  the 
indignation,    although   not  to   the   surprise  of    the 
constitutional   party,    instead  of  aiding  them  with 
his  influence,  advocated  the  more  moderate  course  of 
sending  ambassadors  to  Cisalpine  Gaul,  to  admonish 
the  late  consul  to  relinquish  his  arms  and  submit  to 
the  authority  of  the  senate.     His  motion  was  sup- 
ported by  Piso  and  by  several  other  speakers*,  who 
argued  that  it  would  be  a  palpable  act  of  injustice  to 
declare  any  man  a  public  enemy  without  giving  him 
an  opportunity  either  of  defending  or  explaining  his 
conduct.     This  line  of  reasoning  called  forth  from 
Cicero   another    splendid    exhibition    of    oratorical 
power,  in  the  speech  entitled  the  fifth  Philippic ;  in 
which,  with  admirable  force  and  justice  of  demon- 
stration, he  shows  the  inconsistency  and  madness  of 
temporising  at  so  dangerous  a  juncture,  and  of  de- 
grading the  majesty  of  the  Roman  senate  and  people 
by  any  further  communications  with  one  whom  their 
former  resolutions  had  placed  in  the  condition  of  a 
public  enemy.     He  briefly,  but  with  singular  elo- 
quence, recapitulates  the  whole  of  the  illegal  actions 
of  Antony  since  the  death  of  Caesar,  and  strenuously 
advises  that,  on  such  evidence  of  his  hostility  to  his 
country,  instead  of  sending  ambassadors  to  allow  him 
further  time  for  pursuing  his  traitorous  designs,  it 
should  be  declared  that  a  serious  rebellion  was  in 
existence,  and  that  all  good  citizens  should  be  re- 
quired, laying  aside  their  ordinary  occupations,  to 
take  arms  against  the  adversary  of  the  cause  of  free- 
dom.    From  this  subject  he  passes  on  to  the  public 
honours  to  be  decreed  to  Marcus  Lepidus,  for  his  late 
services  in  conciliating  Sextus  Pompey  to  the  repub- 
lic, and  to  Decimus  Brutus,  now,  according  to  the 
disposition  of  Caesar,  consul  elect,  as  well  as  to  Octa- 
^^  Dio(lib.  xlv.)  has  given  a  long,  but  evidently  spurious,  account 
of  this  debate. 


480  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

vius,  for  their  late  conduct.  Asa  recompense  to  the 
first,  he  proposes  a  vote  of  thanks  and  a  gilded  eques- 
trian statue  in  the  rostra — to  the  second,  a  general  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  services  to  the  state — to  the  third, 
whom  he  terms  a  divine  youth  providentially  sent  by 
some  superior  power  to  the  rescue  of  his  countrymen, 
and  raises  above  Cneius  Pompey  in  his  early  exhibition 
of  the  qualities  of  a  general  and  patriotic  statesman, 
the  more  solid  rewards  specified  in  the  following 
proposed  decree: — "  Whereas  Caius  Ceesar,  the  son 
of  Caius,  pontifex  and  propraetor,  has,  at  a  perilous 
crisis  of  the  republic,  excited  and  levied  a  veteran 
force  to  defend  the  liberty  of  the  Koman  people;  and, 
whereas,  the  Martial  and  fourth  legions,  under  the 
guidance,  and  at  the  suggestion  of  the  said  Caius 
Caesar,  with  the  most  perfect  unanimity  and  greatest 
zeal  towards  the  republic,  have  defended,  and  still  do 
defend  the  liberty  of  the  people  of  Rome ;  and, 
whereas,  the  said  Caius  Caesar,  propraetor,  has  lately 
set  out  to  the  assistance  of  the  province  of  Gaul, 
and  has  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  Roman  people 
a  force  consisting  of  horse,  archers,  and  elephants, 
serving  under  his  command,  and  has  upheld  the 
safety  and  dignity  of  his  country  in  a  time  of  extreme 
danger;  may  it,  therefore,  please  the  senate,  that 
Caius  Caesar,  the  son  of  Caius,  be  from  henceforth 
vested  with  the  dignity  of  pontifex,  propraetor,  and 
senator,  and  vote  in  the  place  and  capacity  of  praetor ; 
and  that,  in  standing  for  any  magistracy,  he  be  re- 
garded in  the  same  light  as  if  he  had  been  actually 
praetor  the  year  before*."  He  then  employs  all  his 
ingenuity  in  panegyrising  Octavius,  and,  with  human 
blindness  to  the  future,  engages  for  his  sincerity  in 
his  attachment  to  the  republic.  Nothing  can  exem- 
plify a  stronger  confidence  than  his  assertion  upon 
this  subject :  —  "I  will  even  dare,"  he  exclaims, 
"  Conscript  Fathers,  to  pledge  my  own  credit  and 

•   Philipp.  V.  J 7. 


THE  LIFE    OF   CICERO.  481 

honour  to  yourselves,  and  to  the  people  of  Rome, 
(which,  unless  under  dread  of  compulsion,  I  should, 
under  other  circumstances,  never  venture  to  do,  from 
fear  of  incurring  the  accusation  of  rashness),  and  on 
this  security,  promise,  undertake,  and  declare,  that 
the  same  character  which  he  now  possesses  as  a 
citizen,  Caius  Caesar  will  at  all  times  constantly  main- 
tain ;  and  continue  to  the  end  in  every  respect  such  as 
we  could  wish  and  desire  him  to  be."  The  oration 
ends  with  recommending  that  Lucius  Egnatuleius 
should  also  be  allowed  to  stand  for  office  three  years 
before  the  legal  age,  and  appoints  liberal  rewards, 
consisting  of  exemption  from  future  service,  and 
grants  of  land  and  money,  to  the  veterans  who  had 
assembled  at  the  summons  of  Octavius,  and  to  the 
lately  revolted  legions*.  The  honours  proposed  by 
Cicero  in  his  fifth  Philippic  were  readily  conceded  by 
his  audience,  but  so  great  was  the  difference  of  opinion 
upon  the  more  important  question  of  sending  ambas- 
sadors to  Antony,  that  three  whole  days  were  con- 
sumed in  warm  debates  upon  the  subject,  during 
which  Cicero  has  been  represented  as  malignantly 
assailed  by  his  opponent  Calenus,  in  a  speech  at  least 
equal  to  any  of  his  own  in  sarcastic  bitternesst.  The 
original  motion  was  at  length  carried,  in  consequence 
of  the  intercession  of  Selvius  the  tribune,  in  favour  of 
the  Antonian  party ;  and  it  was  decreed  that  three 
ambassadors,  Lucius  Piso,  Lucius  Philippus,  and  Ser- 
vius  Sulpicius,  should  be  despatched  without  delay 
into  Gaul,  to  command  Antony,  on  the  authority  of 
the  senate,  instantly  to  raise  the  siege  of  Mutina,  and 
to  convey  to  Brutus  the  sense  entertained  by  his 
fellow-citizens  of  his  courage  and  merits.  While  the 
deliberations  preceding  this  resolution  were  going 
forward,  the  population  of  Rome,  assembling  in 
immense  multitudes  in  the  forum,  anxiously  awaited 
the  event,  and  as  soon  as  the  senate  was  known  to 


♦Philipp.  V.J 9. 


t  Dio,  xlv. 


I  I 


482 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


483 


have  broken  up,  called  with  one  voice  upon  Cicero  to 
give  them  an  account  of  the  result  of  the  meeting 
from  the  rostra.    This  was  accordingly  done,  after  he 
had  been  introduced  to  the  assembly  by  the  tribune 
Apuleius,  in  the   speech  which  stands  the  sixth   in 
order  among  the  Philippics,  containing  an  avowal  of 
his  conviction  that  Antony  would  never  concede  to 
the  demands  of  the  ambassadors,  and  exhorting  his 
countrymen  to  prepare  for  the  war  which  was  no 
longer  avoidable.     It   concludes  with   an  energetic 
exhortation  to  his  auditory  to  exert  themselves,  at 
this  imminent  crisis,  for  the  liberty  decreed  to  them 
by  the  gods,  (who  had  placed  all  the  rest  of  the  earth 
in  subjection  to  their  authority,)  as  their  national 
inheritance;  and  either  to  conquer  in  the  impending 
stmggle,  or  prefer  the  last  extremities  to  that  servi- 
tude to  wliich  other  nations  might  submit,  but  which 
the  orator  proudly  declares  to  be  incompatible  with 
the  destinies  of  the  Roman  people*.     Nearly  to  the 
same  effect  was  his  oration  before  the  senators,  when 
they  were  consulted  by  the  consuls  soon  afterwards 
on  certain  questions  respecting  the  Appian-way  and 
the  coinage,  and  by  one  of  the  tribunes  of  the  people 
relative  to  tlie  office  of  the  Luperci.    On  this  occasion 
Cicero,  when  asked  his  opinion,  availed  himself  of 
the  usual  privilege,  which  allowed  every  member  of 
the  national  council,   if  he  thought   it  necessary,  to 
depart  from  the  subject  immediately  under  consider- 
ation and  to  introduce  his  opinion  upon  other  ques- 
tions  affecting  the   general    interests,  by  labouring, 
with  the  whole  force  of  his  eloquence,  to  counteract 
the  endeavours  of  the  friends  of  Antony ;  who  were 
recommending  a  peace  with  him  on  any  conditions, 
as  at  least  preferable  to  the  horrors  of  civil  discord 
with  which  the    state  was   threatened.     Antony,  in 
connexion  with  his  brother  Lucius,  is  again  alluded 
to   in  such  opprobrious  terms  as  might  well  have 

•  Philipp.  vi.  7. 


i 


given  additional  edge  to  his  resentment  against  his 
unwearied  accuser.  He  is  described  as  a  foul  and  per- 
nicious monster,  whom  it  would  be  madness  on  the  part 
of  the  hunter  to  suffer  to  escape  when  fairly  caught 
and  entangled  in  his  snares,  while  his  brother  is  branded 
with  the  appellation  of  a  common  gladiator ;  "  which 
word  (says  Cicero)  I  use  not  in  any  figurative  sense, 
but  as  those  are  accustomed  to  employ  it  who  deliver 
themselves  in  plain  and  unadorned  Latin*."  The  orator 
closes  his  speech  by  exhorting  the  consul  Pansa  not 
to  suffer  the  military  resources  in  his  hands  to  remain 
idle,  and  briefly  assents,  with  respect  to  the  subjects 
of  discussion,  to  an  opinion  expressed  by  Servilius. 

The  tempest  of  war  was  in  the  meantime  fast 
thickening  around  the  walls  of  Mutina,  Octavius 
Caesar,  at  no  period  of  his  life  particularly  adapt- 
ed for  the  office  of  a  general,  and  strongly  suspected,' 
on  many  occasions,  of  actual  cowardice,  after  directing 
the  march  of  his  legions  across  the  Apennines,  and 
advancing  as  far  as  Forum  Cornelii,  on  the  road  from 
Ariminum  to  the  besieged  city,  had  there  awaited 
the  arrival  of  additional  reinforcements,  without 
making  any  attempts  to  impede  the  progress  of  the 
besiegers  in  the  erection  of  the  enormous  works, 
under  protection  of  which  they  continued  to  batter 
the  ramparts  occupied  by  Decimus  Brutus  and  his 
resolute  garrison.  On  the  arrival  of  Hirtius,  how- 
ever, who  having  obtained  the  commission  of  acting 
in  Gaul  by  lot,  had  set  out  from  Rome  in  the  beginning 
of  the  year  at  the  head  of  two  fresh  legions,  a  vigor- 
ous attack  was  immediately  ordered  by  that  expe- 
rienced scholar  of  Cassar  upon  the  outposts  of  the 
enemy,  as  a  result  of  which  Antony  was  speedily 
dispossessed  of  the  strong  position  of  Claterna,  with 

*  Lucius  Antonius  was  said  wliile  in  Asia  to  have  assumed  the 
arms  of  a  mirmillo,  and  in  that  character  to  have  harbarously  mur- 
dered oue  of  his  intimate  companions,  "whom  he  had  compelled  to 
encounter  him  in  single  combat. — Philipp.  vii.  6. 

ii2 


11, 


484 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


the   loss  of  several  of  his  cavalry   in  the  action*. 
Hirtius  would  probably  have  pushed  his  successes 
still   farther,   had   he  not  been  advised   by  Cicero, 
with  whom  he   was  in  constant  communication,  to 
hazard   nothing  until  he   should   be  joined  by  his 
colleague  Pansa,    who  was   vigorously  carrying  on 
additional  levies,  with  the  intention  of  hastening  as 
soon  as  possible  to  his  assistance.     As  it  was,  his 
presence  compelled  Antony  to  divide  his  forces,  and 
leaving  a  part  to  continue  the  operations  commenced 
against  Mutina,  to  take  post  with  the  rest  at  Bononia, 
to  observe  the  motions  of  the  consular  army.     While 
the  three  leaders  were  thus  watching  each  other  s  pro- 
ceedings, Philippus  and  Piso  (the  third  ambassador, 
Servius  Sulpicius,  having  died  suddenly  upon  the  road) 
arrived  at  the  camp  of  Antony,  as  bearers  of  the  com-' 
niands  of  the  senate,  and  were  received  with  great 
courtesy ;   being  freely  allowed  to  proceed  as  far  as 
Mutina,  and  to  inspect  at  their  leisure  the  formidable 
approaches  making  against  the  city.     As  Cicero  had 
anticipated  and  predicted,  however,  their  journey,  in 
all  its  material   points,  proved   wholly  ineffectual. 
So  far  from  laying  down  his  arms  unconditionally, 
Antony  continued  daily  to  storm  with  all  his  batter- 
ing engines  against  the  walls  of  Mutina  before  their 
eyest ;  and,  in  reply  to  the  peremptory  order  he  had 
received,  notified  as  the  only  terms  on  which  he  was 
willing  to  listen  to  a  treaty  for  a  single  moment,  a 
confirmation  of  all  the  grants  which  he  had  made  in 
conjunction  with  Dolabella,  during  their  joint  consul- 
ship, as  well  as  of  the  acts  which  he  had  latterly  pro- 
duced, as  authorised  by  the  papers  of  Caesar  in  his 
possession.    He  farther  insisted  that  no  inquiry  should 
be  made  with  respect  to  the  treasure  which  he  had 
seized  in  the  temple  of  Ops ;  and  that  he  should  be 
allowed  to  retain  possession  for  five  years  to  come  of 
the  province  of  Gallia  Comata,  or  Gaul  beyond  the 


I 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


485 


•  Piiilipp,  viii.  2. 


t  Philipp.  viii.  ?. 


Alps,  with  a  force  of  six  legions,  partly  to  be  sup- 
plied from  the  army  of  Decimus  Brutus,  as  well  as  to 
continue  in  arms  as  long  as  Brutus  and  Cassius  should 
retain  any  military  command*.  On  slich  conditions 
he  promised  to  suspend  his  advances  against  Mutina, 
and  to  relinquish  his  claims  upon  Cisalpine  Gaul. 

The  receipt   of  these  insolent  propositions,  when 
made  public  by  the  ambassadors  after  their  return 
to  the  city  in  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  February, 
excited  a  general  feeling  of  indignation.     Yet,  at  a 
senate  convened  by    Pansa  to   deliberate  upon  the 
steps  to  be  next  pursued,  Calenus  and  his  faction  had 
interest  enough  to  soften  many  of  the  resolutions  pro- 
posed by  the  party  of  Cicero,  and  wholly  to  frustrate 
others.     The  war,  which  the  latter  urged  the  assem- 
bly to  declare  to  be  then  raging  against  the  state, 
was  altered  to  the  milder  designation  of  a  "  tumult. 
Antony,  instead  of  being  proclaimed  an  open  enemy 
to  his  country,  was  simply  designated  its  adversary 
or  opponent ;  and  a  general  prohibition,  brought  for- 
ward to  prevent  all  well-wishers  to  the  republic  from 
holding  from  henceforth  any  communication  with  him 
in  person,  was  met  by  an  exception  in  favour  of  his 
lieutenant  Varius  Cotyla,  then  present,  and  atten- 
tively observing,    as   well    as   taking   notes   of  the 
progress  of  the  debate.     The  main  point,  however, 
to  which    the  constitutionalists   had  directed  their 
efforts, -a  resolution  that  the  military  habit  should 
immediately  be  assumed  by  the  citizens,— was  carried 
with  little  difficulty.     This  day's   proceedings   are 
commemorated  by  Cicero  in   his  eighth   Phihppic, 
addressed   to  the  senate  on  the  following  morning, 
in  which   the   resolutions    already  passed,  and   the 
moderate  conduct  of  Piso    and  Philippus  in   their 
late  embassy,  are  commented  upon  with  indignant 
severity,  and  the  additional  clauses  proposed,  that 
Antony  s  adherents  should  be  invited,  by  an  unre- 
~~  ~  "  *  Philipp.  viii.  9. 


486 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


487 


stricted  promise  of  pardon,  to  return  to  their  duty 
by  the  15  th  of  March,  and  that  with  the  exception 
of  Varius  Cotyla,  whosoever  should  in  the  meantime 
pass  over  to  his  camp  should  be  declared  an  enemy 
to  the  constitution,  and  dealt  with  accordingly*. 

After  the  settlement  of  these  more  important  ques- 
tions, the  senate  proceeded,  on  the  motion  of  Pansa, 
to   consider   the   public   honours   to   be  decreed  to 
Servius   Sulpicius,    who,   by  his  death   in  his  late 
capacity  of  ambassador,  was  considered  by  his  friends 
as  havinor  in    some   sort   sacrificed   himself   in  the 
service  of  his  country.     Publius  Servilius  having,  in 
reference  to  this  question,  proposed  the  erection  of 
a  sepulchre  at  the   expense  of  the  nation,  without 
the  usual  accompaniment  of  a  statue  in  the  rostra, 
arguing  that  the  latter  was  generally  reserved  for  those 
who   had   fallen  by  actual   violence    when  invested 
with  the  sacred  character  of  envoys,  was  answered 
by  Cicero  in  a  brief  oration,  of  which  the  principal 
object  is  to  prove,  that  since  Sulpicius  had  persisted, 
while  labouring  under  a  dangerous  disease,  in  ful- 
filling the  duties  of  the  office  enjoined  upon   him, 
his  death,  thus  accelerated  by  his  self-devotion,  could 
scarcely  be  considered  an  ordinary  casualty ;  and  that 
he  was   therefore  entitled   to  the   fullest   marks  of 
respect  paid  on  former  occasions  to  citizens  who  had 
perished  while  in  the  fulfilment  of  a  similar  office. 
We  learn  incidentally,   from  a  writer  of  much  later 
date,  that  the  arguments  of  Cicero  in  behalf  of  his 
deceased  friend  were  successful ;  since  a  brazen  statue 
of  Sulpicius  is  described  as  existing,  in   the   third 
century,    on   the   rostra  of  Augustust, — the  result, 
doubtless,  of  the  oration  recommending  its  erection  to 
the  senate,  which  is  still  extant  under  the  title  of  the 
ninth  Philippic. 

*  Philipp.  viji.  11. 
•f  Pomponius  de  Origine  Juris,— .<jQoted  by  Mamitius   in    his 
argument  to  the  oration* 


The  tenth  of  these  famous  speeches  owed  its  origin 
to  the  receipt  of  despatches  from  Marcus  Brutus  m 
Macedonia,  conveying  the  most   favourable  intelli- 
gence respecting  the  prospects  of  the  party  of  the 
senate  in  that  province.     Brutus,  immediately  on  his 
arrival  at  Athens  in  the  preceding  year,  had  sum- 
moned most  of   the   young   Roman   nobility   then 
pursuing  their  studies  in  the  city  to  join  his  councils ; 
and  easily  induced  them,  by  his  persuasions,  actively 
to  espouse  the  cause  of  liberty.     He  had  then,  after 
being  aided  with  all  the  resources  at  the  command  of 
the  proconsul  Hortensius,  taken  the  field  with  so  much 
vigour  against  Caius  Antonius,  who  had  been  des- 
patched by  his  brother  to  secure  the  government  against 
the  republic,  as  to  compel  him,  after  abandoning  all  his 
other  posts,  to  retire  to  Apollonia  with  but  seven  cohorts 
remaining  of  his  whole  army.     Of  this  Brutus  now 
crave  notice  to  the  consuls,   adding  at  the  same  time 
the  highest  commendations  of  his  active  assistants, 
Hortensius  and  Marcus  Cicero  ;  the  latter  of  whom, 
relinquishing   at    the   first   landing   of  Brutus   the 
st^hools    of    the   philosophers,   and   the    society    of 
Cratippus,   for  a^siive  service   under  his  command, 
had  been  appointed  by  him  to  the  command  of  his 
cavalry,  and  had  already  distinguished  himself  by 
,  making  prisoners  a  whole  legion  under  the  orders  of 
Piso,  the  legate  of  Antony  ^     Brutus  also  stated  that 
Vatinius  had  opened  the  gates  of  Dyrrachmm  at  his 
summons;  that  the  greater  part  of  the  enemy  s  horse 
had  come  over  to  his  party;  that  Caius  Antonms  might 
shortly  beexpected  to  be  compelled  to  surrender  at  dis- 
cretion ;  and  that  as  the  general  result  of  suoh  a  splen- 
did series  of  successes,  the  whole  of  Macedonia  and 
lUyricum,  with  the  rest  of  Greece,  was  entirely  at  the 
disposal,  and  occupied  by  the  troops,  of  the  senate. 

*  To  this  circumstance  his  parent  exultingly  alludes  in  his  tenth 
Philippic  :-Legio  quam  L.  Piso  ducebat,  legatu.  Antowi,  Ciceroni 
se  filio  meo  tradidit. 


488 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


Pansa  lost  no  time  in  summoning  that  assembly  to 
receive  this  welcome  information,  in  commemoration 
of  which  a  noble  paean*  was  uttered  by  the  great 
ornament  of  their  deliberations,  now  confident  of  the 
ultimate  victory  of  the  cause  which  he  had  under- 
taken, and  congratulating  himself  upon  the  vigorous 
and  resolute  character  of  his  former  counsels. 
After  bestowing  a  highly-wrought  panegyric  upon 
Brutus, — veliemently  censuring  Calenus  for  his  ill 
affection  towards  so  eminent  a  patriot, — demonstrating 
the  serious  evils  which  would  have  arisen  from  the 
possession  of  Greece  by  the  partisans  of  Antony, — 
and  proving  that  nothing  was  to  be  dreaded  from  any 
extraordinary  powers  which  might  be  conferred  upon 
the  late  victors  in  that  country,  the  orator  brought 
forward  as  an  improvement  upon  a  decree  proposed 
by  Calenus,  one  of  his  own,  which  was  readily 
adopted,  confirming  Brutus  in  his  title  of  proconsul ; 
empowering  him  to  defend  and  keep  possession  of 
lUyricum,  Macedonia,  and  the  whole  of  Greece ;  to 
retain  the  full  force  at  present  under  his  command; 
and  to  raise  such  sums  as  might  appear  necessary 
for  its  maintenance,  either  from  the  ordinary  sources 
of  revenue,  or  the  strength  of  the  public  credit. 
Thanks  were  also  given  in  this  decree  for  his  eminent 
services  to  the  proconsul  Hortensius,  who  was  at 
the  same  time  desired  to  hold  the  province  of  Mace- 
donia until  his  successor  should  be  appointed  by 
the  senate. 

The  satisfaction  generally  felt  at  Rome  on  account 
of  the  prosperity  which  had  attended  the  arms  of 
Brutus  in  Greece,  was  soon  afterwards  damped  by 
unwelcome   news   from   Asia ;    where   Caius    Tre- 

*  In  what  beauty  of  language  is  this  list  of  triumphs  summed 
up! — Tenet  igitur  populus  Romanus  Macedoniam  ;  tenet  Illyricum  ; 
tuetur  Grseciam  ;  nostrse  sunt  legiones  ;  nostra  levis  armatura ; 
noster  equitatus,  maximeque  noster  est  Brutus,  semperque  noster, 
cum  sua  excellentissimft  virtute  reipublicae  natus,  turn  fato  quodam 
paterni  maternique  generis  et  nominis. — Philipp.  x.  6. 


II 


THE  LIFE   OF   CICERO.  489 

bonius,  one  of  the  most  active  conspirators  against 
Ca&sar,  and  the  only  one  among  them  of  consular  rank 
had   established  himself;   occupying  with  a  strong 
garrison  the   city   of   Smyrna,  and   maintaining    a 
beneficial  communication  with  Cassius,  now  in  pos- 
session of  almost  the  whole  of  Syria,  with  an  army 
which,   by  recent  additions,   and  the  defection  of  a 
considerable  force,  while  on  its  march  from  Egypt 
to  receive  the  orders  of  Antony's  late  colleague  in 
the  consulship,  amounted  to  twelve  whole  legions. 
Dolabella,  to  whom  the  province  had  been  decreed 
by  the  opposite  faction,  and  who  had  been  sent  out 
towards  the  end  of  his  consulship  to  expel  Cassius 
from  it  by  force,  had  entered,  while  marching  past 
the  walls  of  Smyrna,  into  a  conference  with  Tre- 
bonius,   held  without  the  gates ;  at  which  expres- 
sions of  respect,  salutations,  and  even  friendly  em- 
braces, took  place  between  the  two  leaders ;  and  the 
soldiers  of  Dolabella,  although  they  were  not  suffered 
to  enter  the  town,  were  freely  supplied  with  pro- 
visions by  the  troops  who  composed  the  garrison. 
This  kindness  was  but  ill  repaid.     Dolabella,  on  set- 
ting out  from  Smyrna  with  the  intention,  as  he  gave 
out,  of  pursuing   his  way  towards    Ephesus,    into 
which   Trebonius  had  promised  that  he  should  be 
peacefully  received  on  condition  of  his  retiring  from 
Smyrna,  only  continued  his  course  in  that  direction  as 
long  as  he  was  followed  by  a  party  of  horse  which 
Trebonius  had  commanded  to  observe  his  motions  for 
some  distance.     These  had  no  sooner  retired,  than 
hastily  counter-marching  his   army,  he   again  ap- 
proached, under  cover  of  night,  the  city  which  he 
had  left  a  few  hours  previously;    and  finding  the 
ramparts,  as  he  had  expected,  only  guarded   by  a 
few  careless  sentinels,  carried  it  at  once  by  escalade. 
Trebonius,  who  had  retired  to  rest,  without  any  sus- 
picion of  danger  at  hand,  was  seized  in  his  chamber, 
and  hurried   before   his,  remorseless  captor;    who, 


490 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


after  exposing  him  to  the  most  excruciating  tortures 
for  two  days,  to  force  from  him  a  confession  of  the 
amount  of  the  pubUc  money  in  his  hands  and  the 
places  where  it  was  deposited,  commanded  him  at 
length  to  be  strangled,  his  head  to  be  fixed  upon  a 
spear  and  exhibited  to  the  people,  and  his  mangled 
remains,   after   being   openly  dragged   through   the 
streets,  to  be  thrown  into  the  sea*.     This  was  the 
first  noble  blood  offered  by  his  vindictive  avengers  to 
the  memory  of  Caesar — a  fearful  omen  of  the  tide  of 
slaughter  by  which  it  was  to  be  followed.     The  in- 
telligence of  the  manner  in  which  it  had  been  shed 
excited  the  senate  at  Rome,  who  were  speedily  con- 
voked to   deliberate   upon   the   subject,   to    declare 
Dolabella,  on  the  motion  of  Calenus,  a  public  enemy, 
and  to  sentence  his  estates  to  immediate  confiscation. 
It  was  also  determined  at  once  to  dispossess  him  of 
Asia  by  force  of  arms ;  but  the  appointment  of  a 
general  to  the  office  was  the  subject   of  long  and 
dubious  discussion ;  the  friends  of  Antony,    on  the 
one  part,    being   anxious   that   the   present    consuls 
should  be  directed  to  take  the  war  under  their  own 
management,  with  Syria  and  Asia  as  their  provinces, 
in  the  hope  that  their  leader  would  thus  be  left  com- 
.paratively  unmolested  in  Cisalpine   Gaul;  while  a 
second  party  advised  that  Publius  Servilius  should  be 
entrusted  with  the  task  of  avenging  Trebonius,  and 
for  that  purpose  immediately  despatched  to  the  East, 
with  an  especial  commission.     Cicero,  in  his  oration 
upon  the  subject,  (the  eleventh  Philippic,)  advocated 
a  course  altogether  difi*erent ;  and  after  touching  in 
glowing  and  elevated  language  upon  the  death  of 
Trebonius  as  that  of  a  glorious  martyr  in  the  cause 
of  freedom,   and  warning  his  audience  of  the^cru- 
elties  which  might  be  expected  from  the  rest  of  the 
Antonian  faction,  after  this  terrible  act  of  one  of 
the  most  eminent  of  their  leaders,  advised  that,  by 
•  Dio,  xlvii.     Philipp.  xi.  2. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


491 


an  especial  decree,  the  government  of  Syria,  Asia, 
Bithynia,  and  Pontus,  and  the  command  of  the  war 
to  be  waged  against  Dolabella  should  be  entrusted 
to  Caius  Cassius ;  the  superior  advantages  afforded 
by  whose  position  and  resources  for  speedily  over- 
powering the  enemies  of  his  country  in  the  Eastern 
provinces,  he  demonstrated  by  the  most  clear  and 
convincing  arguments.  It  does  not  appear,  however, 
that  this  decree  was  ever  passed,  since,  in  a  letter  to 
Cassius,  giving  him  an  account  of  his  exertions  in 
his  behalf,  Cicero  represents  it  as  opposed  by  Pansa, 
(who  was  ambitious  of  obtaining  the  command  for 
himself,)  both  in  the  senate  and  at  a  subsequent 
assembly  of  the  people*,  in  which  the  orator  warmly 
advocated  the  same  plan. 

As  the  consulate  of  Antony  and  Dolabella  was 
drawing  towards  its  close,  the  statue  of  Minerva, 
which  Cicero  had  consecrated  in  the  Capitol  on  the 
evening  of  his  exile,  and  again  removed  from 
thence  to  his  house  on  the  first  moment  of  his  return, 
had  been  suddenly  thrown  down  and  shattered  to 
pieces  by  a  violent  tempestt.  This,  in  token  of  their 
esteem  and  respect,  was  now  ordered,  as  may  be 
gathered  from  a  letter  to  his  friend  Cornificius,  by  a 
particular  resolution  of  the  senate  upon  the  eigh- 
teenth of  March  J,  to  be  restored  at  the  pubHc 
expense.  The  fact,  recorded  amidst  events  of  much 
graver  consequence,  is  sufficiently  characteristic  of 
the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  it  was  precisely  of  the 
kind  likely  to  be  regarded  by  his  countrymen,  after 
the  death  of  Cicero,  as  having  prognosticated  hia 
approaching  end.  In  such  a  light  it  was  certainly 
not  considered  by  the  orator,  whose  power  and  in- 

"  *  Ad  Diversos,  xii.  7.  t  Dio-  xl^- 

X  Ad  Di versos,  xii.  25.  The  festival  of  the  Quinquatria,  a  day 
especially  devoted  to  the  honours  of  the  goddess  : — Quinquatribus 
frequent!  senatu  causam  tuani  egi  non  invito  Minerva.  Eo  ipso 
die  senatus  decrevit  ut  Minerva  nostra  custos  urbis,  quam  turbo 
dejecerat,  restitueretur. 


492  THE   LIFE  OP  CICERO. 

fluence  bad  now  risen  to  a  height  not  hitherto 
exceeded  in  his  most  exalted  state  of  dignity,  and 
who  might  be  well  encouraged,  by  the  expected  issue 
of  the  events  in  which  he  had  of  late  been  a  principal 
actor,  to  anticipate,  instead  of  the  calamitous  fate 
reserved  for  him,  more  ample  honours  from  the  grati- 
tude of  his  countrymen  than  any  by  which  he  had 
yet  been  distinguished. 

The  garrison  of  Mutina,  weakened  by  the  constant 
assaults  directed  against  them,  and  prevented  by  the 
judicious  dispositions  of  Antony  from  receiving  the 
least  supplies  of  men  or  of  provisions  from  their 
friends  without,  were  now  reduced  to  the  last  ex- 
tremity. Their  spirits  had  been  for  some  time  kept 
up  by  intimations  of  the  vicinity  of  the  army  sent 
for  their  relief,  conveyed  by  lights  hoisted  to  the 
tops  of  lofty  trees,  (which,  as  the  surrounding  country 
was  perfectly  level,  were  easily  seen  at  night  from 
the  ^•amparts,)  and  afterwards  by  the  more  direct 
communications  afforded  by  expert  divers  ;  who  un- 
dertook by  swimming  down  the  river  to  convey  to 
its  destination  any  intelligence  which  it  might  be 
thought  requisite  to  forward  to  the  town,  engraved 
on  metal  plates.  The  historian  Pliny  adds,  that 
when  this  method  of  intercourse  was  stopped  by  nets 
drawn  across  the  stream,  letters  were  still,  for  some 
time,  sent  by  Brutus  into  the  camp  of  the  consul 
attached  to  the  feet  of  carrier-pigeons*.  By  these 
means,  the  desperate  condition  of  the  besieged  was 
known  at  Rome  ;  and  although  the  indomitable  reso- 
lution of  the  garrison  and  its  commander  was  fully 
appreciated,   the   intelligence  was   expected  almost 

•  "  Quin  et  internuntise  in  rebus  magnis  fu^re,  epistolas  annexas 
earum  pedibus  obsidione  Mutinen&i  in  castra  consulum  Decimo 
Bruto  inittente."  The  succeeding  comment  is  characteristic  of 
the  style  of  this  quaint  but  elegant  writer: — "  Quid  vallum  et 
vigil  obsidio,  atque  etiam  retia  amne  praetenta,  profu6re  Antonio, 
per  coelum  eunte  nuntio  ?" — Nat.  Hist.  x.  53. 


THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO. 


493 


hourly  that  the  town  had  been  carried  by  the  assail- 
ants, and  Brutus  subjected  to  the  fate  of  Trebonius. 
Under  the  influence  of  this  apprehension,  it  was  pro- 
posed by  the  consul  Pansa,  that  a  second  embassy 
should  be  sent  to  negociate  a  peace  with  Antony. 
Many  members  of  the  senate  seconded  the  motion, 
and  added  their  advice,  that  Publius  Servilius  and 
Cicero  should  be  charged  with  the  commission.    The 
latter,  influenced  by  whatever  motives,  so  far  from 
making  any  objection  to  the  plan,  even  expressed 
his  willingness  to  act  in  the  capacity  assigned  to 
him.      But   a   night   of    reflection   convinced   him 
that  he   could  neither,  consistently  with   his  own 
safety,  nor  with  the  interests  of  the  republic,  appear 
in  the  presence  of  Antony,  and  that  any  negociation 
would  now  tend  but  to  lessen  the  dignity  of  the 
senate  without  a  chance  of  producing  any  other  efi^ect 
than  of  increasing  the  insolence  of  their  enemy*.    His 
chancre  of  opinion,  and  determination  to  decline  the 
embassy  which  he  had  incautiously  accepted,  were 
accordingly  expressed  the  next  day  in  his  twelfth 
Philippic;  in  which,  blended  with  his  usual  thunders 
against  the  leader  in  arms  against  the  state,  he  gave 
convincing  reasons  for  suspending  the  proposed  mis- 
sion, or,  at  least,  for  exempting  himself  from  under- 
taking it.    The  project  was  accordingly  dismissed ; 
but,  as  it  was   necessary   to   make   an   immediate 
attempt  in  some  shape  for  the  rescue  of  Decimus 
Brutus,  it  was  finally  determined  that  Pansa  should 
hasten  at  the^head  of  four  legions  which  were  quar- 
tered in  the  suburbs,  and  eager  for  active  service,  to 
effect   a  junction  with   his  colleague  Hirtius,  and 
oblige  Antony,  either  at  once  to  raise  the  siege  of 
Mutina,  or  to  hazard,  with  every  prospect  of  dis- 
comfiture, a  general  action  with  the  troops  of  the 

republic.  ^  ,  . 

Pansa  seems  to  have  set  out  upon  his  expedition 

*  Philipp.  xii.  2. 


494 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


towards  the  end  of  the  month  of  March*,  leaving 
Cicero  to  manage  affairs  at  Rome  during  his  absence. 
The  indefatigable  industry  and  versatile  mind  of  this 
eminent  statesman,  now  formally  acknowledged  the 
head  of  the  party  whose  movements  he  had  so  long 
directed,  were  never  exerted  with  greater  activity 
than  at  the  present  important  juncture ;  as  may  be 
judged  from  as  much  of  his  correspondence  as  is  left 
with  the  principal  generals  under  arms  for  the  pre- 
servation of  the  commonwealth,  exhorting,  encourag- 
ing, and  inducing  each,  by  every  possible  argument, 
strenuously  to  maintain  the  part  he  had  under- 
taken —  obviating  objections  —  allaying  jealousies, 
and  holding  out  the  promise  of  ample  and  certain 
rewards.  That  a  clear  idea  may  be  formed  of  the 
resources  upon  which  the  senate  and  their  opponents 
at  this  time  relied,  and  of  the  prospects  and  condition 
of  both,  it  may  be  as  well  to  cast  a  general  glance 
upon  the  position  of  the  contending  parties,  both  in 
Italy  and  its  dependent  provinces. 

In  the  East  Caius  Cassius,  at  the  head  of  a  pow- 
erful fleet  and  army  which  had  placed  itself  under 
his  command,  and  aided  by  Lentulus,  who  had  been 
sent  with  an  extraordinary  commission  into  Asia, 
was  pursuing  that  career  of  victory  against  Dolabella 
which  his  eminent  military  talents  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  country  in  which  he  was  acting 
were  so  likely  to  ensure.  In  Macedonia  the  war 
was  completely  at  an  end.  Caius  Antonius,  after 
his  retreat  to  ApoUonia,  on  gaining  information  of  the 
advance  of  Brutus  to  invest  the  place,  had  thought 
it  expedient  to  withdraw  to  Buthrotum;  but  having 
been  attacked  on  his  march  by  a  detachment  of  the 
enemy,  and  weakened  by  the  loss  of  three  of  the  seven 
cohorts  he  commanded,  he  was  completely  routed  in 

•  See  the  letter  of  Cicero  to  Plancus,  (Ad  Di versos,  x.  10,)  dated 
the  third  of  the  calends  of  April,  (the  30th  of  March,)  in  which  he 
speaks  of  both  the  cunsuh  as  being  absent  from  the  ciij. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


495 


a  second  engagement  with  a  division  headed  by  the 
younger  Marcus  Cicero,  and  compelled  to  surrender 
himself  prisoner.  A  letter,  ascribed  to  Brutus,  is 
preserved  requesting  the  advice  of  Cicero  as  to  the 
conduct  to  be  pursued  towards  the  captive,  and  speak- 
ing, in  such  high  terms  of  the  services  rendered  by  his 
son,  as  must  have  been  especially  gratifying  to  the 
parent  to  whom  the  commendation  was  addressed:  — 
"  Your  son,"  he  writes,  "  does  so  much  to  deserve 
my  approbation  by  his  industry,  patience,  unwearied 
exertions,  magnanimity,  and,  in  short,  by  the  zealous 
performance  of  every  duty,  as  to  induce  me  to  believe 
that  he  constantly  bears  in  mind  the  father  to  whom 
he  owes  his  birth.  Since,  therefore,  he  is  already  so 
far  the  object  of  your  affection  that  no  representations 
of  mine  can  increase  your  regard  towards  him,  con- 
cede thus  far  to  my  judgment,  as  to  believe  that  he 
will  have  no  occasion  to  have  recourse  to  your  renown 
in  order  to  attain  to  his  father's  honours*."  In  the 
same  epistle  he  complains  of  both  the  want  of  men 
and  money  to  preserve  his  recent  conquests.  To  this 
Cicero  replies  evasively,  by  stating  the  opinion  of 
Pansa,  that  all  the  levies  that  could  be  raised  would 
be  required  by  the  exigencies  of  the  state  in  Italy, 
where  he  seems  justly  to  think  that  a  blow  decisive 
of  the  fortunes  of  the  republic  must  speedily  be 
struck t.  In  this  letter  he  also  advises  thatC.  Antonius 
should  be  strictly  guarded  until  the  fate  of  Mutina 
and  its  governor  should  be  known.  But  in  other 
epistles  of  later  date  the  doctrine  of  severity  towards 
the  vanquislied,  to  which  the  mild  and  benevolent 
disposition  of  M.  Brutus  was  utterly  averse,  is 
strongly  urged  J  ;  and  it  is  not  obscurely  intimated, 

*  Ad  Brut.  xxi. — Dated  from  Dyrrachium,  April  Ist,  and 
received  by  Cicero  at  Rome  on  the  eighth  of  the  same  month. 

f  Ad  Brut.  xxii. 

"l  This  dangerous  policy  is  thus  expressed  : — "  Vehemcnter  a  te 
Brute  dissentio ;  nee  clemcntise  tuse  concede,  sed  salutaris  sevcritas 


496  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

that  the  extreme  penalty  of  their  rebellion  against 
the  state,  if  inflicted  upon  any  of  the  family  of 
Antony,  would  be  far  from  meeting  with  the  disappro- 
bation of  the  citizens  of  Rome.  The  answer  to  this 
suggestion,  on  the  part  of  Brutus,  is  a  noble  and  manly 
vindication  of  the  course  he  had  pursued,  and,  to  his 
eternal  honour,  contains  a  direct  refusal  to  be  accessory 
to  the  death  of  one  w^hom,  after  having  granted  him 
his  life  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  he  was  now  compelled,  in 
common  justice  and  humanity,  to  reserve  for  the  future 
judgment  of  the  senate  and  Roman  people*. 

The  province  of  Africa  was  held  by  Quintus  Cor- 
nificius,  an  old  friend  and  correspondent  of  Cicero,  and 
sufficiently  attached  to  the  cause,  which  he  afterwards 
sealed  with  his  blood,  to  leave  the  senate  no  reason 
for  apprehending  any  opposition  to  their  commands 
from  a  country  under  his  government.  In  the  Far- 
ther Spain  the  polished  and  accomplished  Asinius 
Pollio,  immortalised  in  the  pages  of  Horace  and 
Virgil,  maintained  at  least  that  appearance  of  sub- 
mission to  the  established  authorities,  which  is 
expressed  in  his  admirably  worded  letter  to  Cicero 
from  Corduba,  dated  the  sixteenth  of  March,  of  this 
year;  in  which  he  gives  as  the  reason  of  his  delay, 
the  impossibility  of  advancing  into  Italy  while  all 
the  passes  of  the  Alps  were  guarded  by  the  soldiers 

vincit  inanem  speciem  clementia.  Quod  si  clementes  esse  volumus 
nunquam  deerunt  bella  \civil%aJ^ — Ad  Brut.  iii.  ;  and  again,  if 
the  epistle  be  genuine,  Ad  Brut,  xxiii.  **  Neque  dissolutum  a  te 
quidquam  homines  expectant  neque  crudele.  Hujus  rei  moderatio 
facilis  est,  ut  in  duces  vehemens  sit,  in  inilites  liberalis."  To 
the  admirers  of  the  character  of  Cicero,  these  passages  will  appear 
among  the  strongest  evidences  against  the  authenticity  of  the  letters 
to  M.  Brutus.  If  really  from  his  pen,  the  writer  could  little  have 
anticipated  the  use  soon  afterwards  made  of  such  maxims  against 
himself. 

•Ad  Brut.  iv. — The  whole  of  this  beautiful  epistle,  written 
after  the  intelligence  of  the  relief  of  Mutina,  it  well  worthy 
attention. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


WJ 


I, 

\ 


of  Lepidjas.  The  latter,  to  whom  the  province  of 
Hither  Spain  had  been  assigned  by  Julius  Caesar  with 
a  force  of  no  less  than  seven  legions,  after  suspending 
his  march  to  his  government  on  receiving  information, 
of  the  commencement  of  hostilities  in  Italy,  was  now 
slowly  retracing  his  steps  through  the  territory  of 
Narbonne,  yet  undetermined  as  to  the  party  which 
it  would  be  most  to  his  interest  to  espouse.  He  had 
received  in  ungracious  silence  the  honours  lately 
decreed  to  him  by  the  senate  for  his  successful  interfer- 
ence to  bring  about  a  reconciliation  of  Sextus  Pompey 
with  the  state,  and  was  viewed,  both  from  this  sign 
of  disaflection,  and  from  his  well-known  want  of 
principle,  with  equal  suspicion  and  dislike  by  the 
republicans.  Transalpine  Gaul  was  held  by  the 
consul  elect,  Lucius  Plancus,  with  an  army  consisting 
of  five  legions  and  a  multitude  of  auxiliary  troops, 
fully  equipped  for  immediate  service.  This  comman- 
der'after  long  hesitating  to  make  any  active  movement 
or  open  declaration  of  attachment  to  the  party  of  the 
constitution,  had  been  at  length  gained  over,  by  the 
powerful  persuasions  contained  in  several  letters  of 
Cicero,  still  remaining,  to  declare  for  the  senate.  His 
public  communication  to  that  effect  to  the  consuls, 
prcetors,  tribunes,  and  senate,  was  received  soon  after 
the  departure  of  Pansa  from  Rome,  and  afforded 
universal  joy  from  the  prospect  it  held  out  of  the 
accession  of  so  important  an  increase  to  the  force 
already  at  their  disposal,  and  the  assurances  con- 
tained in  it,  that  all  the  cities  in  the  province  under 
the  command  of  the  writer  were  perfectly  disposed 
to  second  him  in  his  exertions  to  maintam  their 
national  liberties,  which  they  seemed  to  consider  as 
identified  with  the  cause  of  Roman  freedom*. 

In  Italy,  the  march  of  Pansa  across  the  Apennines 
towards  Cisalpine  Gaul,  and  the  prospect  of  an  imme- 

♦  Ad  Diversos,  x.  8. 
K  K 


} 


498 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


diate  engagement  with  the  army  of  Antony,  as  soon 
as  he  should  have  united  his  troops  with  those  of 
Hirtius  and  Octavius,  still  further  excited  the  hopes 
and  anticipations  of  certain  success  among  the  friends 
of  liberty.     Beyond   this,    however,    nothing   had 
been  effected  towards  the  delivery  of  Decimus  Brutus 
from  his  perilous  situation.     The  relieving  armies 
were  yet  stationed  at  Forum  Cornelii  and  Clatema, 
separated   from   the  division  covering  the  siege  of 
Mutina,  and  commanded  by  Antony  in  person,  by 
the  streams  of  the  Rhenus  and  Lavinius ;  while  the 
most    desperate    efforts   were    constantly   made   to 
win  the  town,    now  exposed  to   the  extremities  of 
privation  in  consequence  of  the  tedious  blockade  it 
had  undergone,  by  various  methods  of  assault.     The 
whole  strength  of  Antony,  however,  was  not  com- 
prised in  the  army  stationed  about  Mutina,  since  two 
legions  in  his  service,  under  the  orders  of  Ventidius, 
were  lyinor  in  the  Picenum  ;  whither  they  had  re- 
treated after  the  abandonment  of  a  design  of  suddenly 
entering  Romp,  and  carrying  off  the  principal  mem- 
bers of  tlie  senatorial  party,  with   Cicero  at  their 
head*,  and  wire  now  securely  posted  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  completely  to  command  the  Flaminian  way. 

While  such  was  the  general  condition  of  the  re- 
public at  li()in<^  and  abroad,  a  letter  was  received  at 
Rome,  which  had  been  forwarded  by  Antony  from 
his  lines  near  Mutina  to  Octavius  and  Hirtius,  and, 
after  perusal,  transmitted  by  them  without  delay  to 
the  senate.  This  contained  an  address  to  the  two 
commanders,  intended  to  excite  in  both  a  feeling  of 
disaffection  towards  the  cause  for  which  they  were  in 
arms ;  and,  as  singularly  expressive  of  the  mingled 
daring  and  subtlety  of  the  future  triumvir,  (who,  like 
the  Spartan  monarch  of  old,  was  never  indisposed 
to  eke  out  the  lion's  skin  with  that  of  the  fox,) 
*  Appian.  Do  Bellis  Civil,  iii. 


,    I 


THE    LIFE   OP  CICERO. 


499 


it  seems  not  unworthy  of  consideration.  The  epistle, 
of  which  the  very  superscription  was  intended  to 
appear  characteristic  of  military  bluntness,  may  Ije 
thus  translated : — 

"  ANTONY    TO    HIRTIUS    AND    CiESAR. 

"  The  intelligence  of  the  death  of  Trebonius  has 
given  me  no  less  joy  than  sorrow,  since  I  could  not  but 
exult  on  hearing  that  a  villain  had  made  some  atone- 
ment by  such  an  end  to  the  ashes  of  a  most  illustrious 
individual,  and  that  Divine  justice  had  displayed  itself 
even  within  the  short  compass  of  a  year,  by  actu- 
ally accomplished,  as  well  as  in  threatened,  vengeance 
against  the  crime  of  parricide.  Deeply,  however, 
must  I  lament  that  Dolabella  has  been  declared  a 
public  enemy,  for  his  punishment  of  an  assassin,  and 
that  the  life  of  the  son  of  a  low  buffoon  has  appeared 
dearer  to  the  Roman  people  than  that  of  Caius  Caesar, 
the  parent  of  his  country.  But  more  painful  to  me 
still  is  the  reflection  that  you,  Aulus  Hirtius,  loaded 
with  the  benefits  of  Csesar,  and  raised  by  hini  to  a 
condition  so  exalted  as  to  make  you  an  object  of 
wonder  to  yourself,  and  that  you,  boy,  who  owe 
everything  to  his  name,  should  have  exerted  your- 
self to  the  utmost  that  Dolabella  might  appear 
justly  condemned;  that  a  secret  murderer  should 
be  freed  from  the  perils  of  a  siege,  and  that  Brutus 
and  Cassius  should  be  invested  with  unlimited 
power.  Doubtless  you  are  inclined  to  view  the 
present  state  of  affairs  as  the  past  was  once  re- 
garded. The  camp  of  Pompey  you  term  the  senate. 
The  vanquished  Cicero  is  considered  your  general. 
You  have  strengthened  Macedonia  with  arms,  and 
transferred  Africa  to  the  twice-captured  Varus; 
despatchedCassius  into  Syria ;  suffered  Cascato  enjoy 
the  tribunate ;  deprived  the  Luperci  of  the  revenues 
assigned  them  by  Caesar ;  abolished  the  colonics  of 
^  kk2 


500 


THE    LIFE   OF   CIGERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


501 


veterans,  established  both  by  the  people  and  thesenate ; 
promised  to  restore  to  the  people  of  Marseilles  all  of 
which  they  have  been  deprived  by  right  of  war; 
despised  the  regulation  that  no  Pompeian  can  hold 
office  during  life,  fixed  by  the  Hirtian  law ;  sup- 
plied Brutus  with  the  money  of  Apuleius;  com- 
mended the  execution  of  Poetus  and  Menedemus,  the 
friends  of  Csesar,  and  gifted  by  him  with  the  freedom 
of  the  city;  and  neglected  the  injuries  of  Theopompus, 
compelled  by  Trebonius  to  fly  despoiled  and  exiled 
to  Alexandria.  You  behold  without  resentment  in 
your  camp  Sergius  Galba,  girded  with  the  same 
dagger  with  which  he  slew  Caesar  ;  have  collected 
forces  composed  of  my  own  soldiery  or  of  veteran  troops, 
as  if  for  the  destruction  of  Caesar's  murderers,  and 
.  led  them  on,  unaware  of  your  designs,  to  endanger 
the  lives  of  their  own  quaestor,  or  general,  or  fellow- 
soldiers.  What,  in  short,  have  you  not  done  or 
approved — or  what  more  could  Pompey  himself  do, 
were  he  recalled  to  life  ?  To  crown  all,  you  refuse  to 
listen  to  overtures  of  peace,  unless  I  allow  Decimus 
Brutus  to  escape,  or  supply  him  with  provisions. 
Reflect  whether  such  conduct  is  likely  to  please  those 
veterans  who  are  yet  uncorrupted,  since,  as  for  your- 
selves, you  have  been  purchased  by  the  poisoned  gifts 
and  flatteries  of  your  enemies.  But  you  come,  you  will 
say,  to  assist  the  troops  whom  I  am  besieging.  I 
have  no  wish  to  prevent  their  being  saved,  and  suf- 
fered to  depart  in  whatever  direction  you  think  fit, 
provided  they  leave  their  general  to  perish  as  he  has 
deserved.  You  inform  me  that  mention  of  peace  has 
been  made  in  the  senate,  and  that  five  persons  of 
consular  dignity  are  appointed  as  ambassadors  to 
effect  it.  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  those  who 
drove  me  to  extremities,  after  I  had  ofl'ered  the  most 
equitable  conditions,  and  intended  to  remit  some  part 
even  of  these,  can  act  in  any  respect  with  moderation 


I 


1 


i 


\i 


or  humanity ;    nor  is  it  very  likely  that  the  same 
persons  who  have  declared  Dolabella  a  public  enemy, 
on  account  of  his  most  righteous  act,  will  feel  inclined 
to  spare  me,  who  profess  myself  a  sharer  in  his  senti- 
ments.    Consider,  therefore,  whether  it  is  more  useful 
to  your  party,  or  more  creditable  to  those  enlisted  for 
its  support,  to  avenge  the  death  of  Trebonius  or  that  of 
Csesar ;  whether  it  is  more  equitable  that  we  should 
be  at  mortal  contention  to  efi*ect  the  revival  of  the 
cause  of  Pompey,  so  often   destroyed,    or  unite  to 
prevent   ourselves  from  becoming  the  sport  of  our 
enemies,  who  are  surt^  to  be  the  gainers  by  the  death 
of  any  one  of  us  as  a  result  of  our  disputes:  although 
fortune  has  hitherto  interfered  to  prevent  the  spectacle 
of  two  armies,  belonging  to  the  same  party,  fighting, 
like  rival  gladiators,  to  please  Cicero,  the  master  of 
the  show;  who  has  been  so  far  fortunate  as  to  deceive 
you  with  the  same  specious  artifices*  with  which  he 
once  boasted  of  having   deluded    Caesar.     For  my 
own  part,  my  resolution  is  already  taken,  neither  to 
submit  to  insult  ofi'ered  to  myself  or  to  my  friends ; 
nor  to  desert  the  party  which   once   incurred  the 
hatred  of  Pompey;  nor  to  suff*er  the  veterans  to  be 
ejected  from  their  settlements,  or  dragged  one  by  one 
to  torture ;  nor  to  prove  false  to  the  faitli  which  I 
have  plighted  to  Dolabella;  nor  to  violate  my  alliance 
with  Lepidus,  that  most  religious  individualt ;  nw 
to  betray  Plancus,  the  participator  of  my  counsels. 
If  the  immortal  gods  assist  me,  as  I  confidently  hope 
they  will,  in  following  out  these  upright  sentiments, 
*  In  the   original  "  elegantiis  "  an   affected  pinas©  which  it  it 
difficult  to  translate  by  an  appropriate  term,  and  which  Cicero  does 
not  suffer  to  escape  in  his  ci)mment«  upon  the  sentences  of  the 
A^pistle  seriatim. 

t  ''  Piissimi  homini*."  No  one  can  forget  the  concentrated  force 
of  irony  with  which  Cicero  falls  upon  this  title  :— Tu  pono  ne  pios 
fluidem  sed  piissimos  quaeris  ;  ct  quod  verbum  omnino  nullum  m 
lingu^  Latiua  est,  id  propter  tuam  divinaw  pietateuj  noYUW 
iiiducis, — Philipp.  xiii.  19, 


502 


THE  LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


life  will  be  pleasing.  If,  however,  a  different  fate 
awaits  me,  I  can  at  least  enjoy,  by  anticipation,  the 
punishments  which  will  afterwards  fall  upon  your- 
selves. For  if  the  Pompeian  faction,  although  van- 
quished^  behave  themselves  with  so  much  insolence, 
it  will  be  for  you  to  experience  what  their  conduct 
will  be  when  victorious.  My  ultimate  decision  is 
this — ^to  endure  and  forgive  the  injuries  inflicted  upon 
me  by  my  own  friends,  if  they,  on  their  part,  are  dis- 
posed to  bury  them  in  oblivion,  or  to  add  their  efforts 
to  mine  in  avenging  the  death  of  Caesar.  It  is  not 
my  opinion  that  any  ambassadors  will  be  sent; 
when  they  arrive  I  shall  be  better  acquainted  with 
what  they  have  to  propose." 

This  epistle,  so  well  calculated  to  injure  the  repub- 
lican cause,  either  by  influencing  the  minds  of  those 
to  whom  it  was  addressed  with  a  feeling  of  dislike 
towards  their  political  allies,  or  by  exciting,  when 
made  public,  a  sense  of  jealousy  and  distrust  of  their 
sincerity  among  the  members  of  the  senatorian  party, 
was  received  almost  simultaneously  with  a  despatch 
from  Lepidus,  earnestly  recommending  the  adoption  of 
pacific  measures*.  The  communication  was  only  re- 
garded as  a  fresh  evidence  of  his  disaffection,  and  at 
a  meeting  of  the  senate,  convened  to  take  it  into  con- 
sideration, it  was  easily  carried,  at  the  suggestion  of 
Servilius,  that,  after  being  coolly  thanked  for  his 
unwelcome  interference,  under  pretence  of  reconciling 
the  prevailing  discords,  he  should  be  requested  to 
suffer,  for  the  future,  the  senate  (whose  firm  opinion 
it  was  that  no  peace  could  be  made  until  Antony 
should  disband  his  forces)  to  take  what  steps  they 
might  think  proper  in  reference  to  the  disputes  agi- 
tating the  state.  On  this  occasion  Cicero  delivered  his 
thirteenth  oration  against  Antony,  with  a  view  of  sup- 
porting the  opinion  of  Servilius,  and  of  moving,  in 

*  Philipp.  xiii.  4, 


THE    LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


503 


'\, 


addition,  that  the  offer  of  assistance,  which  had  been 
recently  received  from  Sextus  Pompey,  should  be  ac- 
cepted with  expressions  of  public  gratitude.  His  argu- 
ments against  all  overtures  of  peace  with  hisenemy  were 
supported  by  a  perusal  of  the  late  letter  of  Antony 
to  Octaviusand  Hirtius,  the  examination  of  which, 
almost  word  by  word,  with  a  view  of  exposing  the 
writer  to  the  scorn  and  hatred  of  the  audience,  con- 
stitutes the  greater  part  of  the  speech.     Although 
the  subject  might  appear  to  hold  out  no  very  extended 
field  for  the  exhibition  of  his  talents,  it  must  be  con- 
ceded that,  among  the  several  invectives  of  Cicero  of 
which  Antony  is  the  subject,  this  is  only  surpassed 
by  the  second  in  vivid  power  and  energy.    Every 
sentence  is  brilliant  wdth  genius,  but  it  is  the  brilli- 
ance of  lightning,  which  consumes  while  it  dazzles. 
The  keenness  of  its  finely-tempered  and  almost  ex- 
haustless  sarcasm,  its  remorseless  but  not  undignified 
irony,  its  uninterrupted  and  unerring  wit,  (which  the 
reader  is  apt  to  think  no  moral  panoply  of  indifference 
or  efirontery  could  have  repelled,)  certainly  leave  it 
unsurpassed  by  any  production  of  the  kind  either  m 
Greek  or  Roman  literature  ;   and  those  who  seek  for 
a  model  of  denouncing,    convicting,   and   avenging 
eloquence,  need  not  look  much  beyond  this  masterly, 
but  hitherto  strangely  neglected,  oration. 

The  peace  of  Antony,  however,  was  far  less  likely 
to  be  disquieted  by  this  burst  of  indignant  rhetoric 
than  by  the  intelligence,  conveyed  to  him  shortly 
afterwards,  that  the  consul  Pansa  was  already  in 
communication  with  his  colleague,  and  that  the  two 
generals  might  be  expected  speedily  to  unite  their 
armies.  To  facilitate  this  desirable  object  Hirtius 
had  despatched  the  whole  of  the  Martial  legion  and 
two  pr^torian  cohorts,  on  the  night  preceding  the 
fifteenth  of  April,  to  secure  the  march  of  the  expected 
force  to  his  camp,  and  to  act  as  its  advanced  guard  ou 


504  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

the  way  thither.  This  detacliment,  after  proceeding 
some  miles  without  molestation,  fell  in  with  the 
legions  of  which  it  was  in  quest,  near  Bononia,  and 
being  safely  united  with  them,  began  to  lead  the 
way  towards  the  head- quarters  of  Hirtius  and 
Octavius  ;  now  established  much  nearer  to  Mutina, 
in  consequence  of  a  succession  of  skirmishes,  by 
which  the  outposts  of  the  besieging  army  had  been 
driven  in,  and  compelled  to  take  up  positions  disposed 
over  a  space,  much  less  extensive  than  the  ground 
which  they  had  formerly  occupied.  Antony,  in  the 
mean  time,  duly  informed  of  the  vicinity  of  Pansa, 
and  fully  sensible  of  the  importance  of  preventing,  if 
possible,  his  union  with  Hirtius,  while  he  was  at  the 
same  time  unaware  of  the  movement  of  the  Martial 
legion  to  support  him,  drew  out  from  his  lines,  on 
the  same  night,  the  second  and  thirty-fifth  legions, 
witli  two  praetorian  cohorts,  a  strong  body  of  evocati^, 
and  a  multitude  of  light  horse  and  infantry ;  deeming 
this  force  amply  sufficient  to  overpower  the  four 
legions  of  recently  levied  recruits,  which  alone  he  ex- 
pected to  encounter.  On  reaching  the  village  of  Forum 
Gallorum,  situated  on  the  ^milian  way,  between 
Bononia  and  Mutina,  he  concealed  his  legions  behind 
the  houses  and  the  broken  ground  in  their  vicinity. 
His  light  cavalry  and  irregular  troops,  among  whom 
were  a  considerable  number  of  Moorish  horse,  were 
scattered  in  detached  parties  in  front,  separated  from 
the  heavy  infantry  by  a  narrow  pass,  bordered  on 
each  side  by  thickets  and  marshes.  In  this  position 
)ye  leisurely  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  consular 
troops,  who  at  length  made  their  appearance ;  the 

*  The  "  Evocati"  were  veteran  soldiers,  who,  after  liaviDg  retired 
from  the  service,  were  again  in<luced  to  take  arms  on  any  pressing 
emergency,  or  by  the  request  of  some  favaurite  leader.  They  were 
eonsidered  entitled  to  peculiar  privileges,  not  being  subjected  to  aivy 
q(  the  ordinary  labours  imposed  upon  the  legionaries. 


THE   LIFE   OP  CICERO.  ^^^ 

Martial  legion  and  the  praetorian  cohorts,  which  had 
accompanied  it,  forming  the  van,  and  the  rest  fol- 
lowing at  a  short  distance,  in  an  extended  Ime  ot 
march.     On   the  first   sight  of  Antony's   iri^gular 
troops,  the  leading  division  of  the  army  of  Pansa 
regardless  of  the  restraints  attempted  to  be  placed 
upon  their  impetuosity  by  their  officers,  rushed  furi- 
ously forward  to  the  encounter,  and  findmg  theenemy, 
in  pursuance    of    instructions    previously  received 
give  way  before   them   after  but  a  feeble   show  ot 
resistance,  hurried  through  the  pass  in  pursuit,  and 
continued  their  disorderly  progress  until  they  were 
checked  by  the  sight  of  the  threatening  array  of  the 
columns  composing  the  heavy-armed  mfantry  ot  An- 
tony ;    which,  having  been  drawn   out  from   their 
ambush,  and  formed  in  front  of  the  village  during 
this  tumultuous  skirmish,  suddenly  appeared  amidst 
the  cloud  of  fugitives,  bearing  rapidly  down  upon  ^heir 
adversaries  in  order  of  battle.   The  Maxtia  legion  and 
the  pr^torians,  composing  together  but  twelve  cohorts, 
were  consequently  alone   able  to  deploy,  (the  two 
legions  immediately  following,   although  sent  m  all 
histe  by  Pansa  to  their  support,  being  yet  at  some 
distance,)  when  they  were  exposed  to  the  terrible 
shock  of  the  enemy's  line.     The  contest  was,  notwith. 
standing,  for  some  time  more  fiercely  maintained  than 
might  have  been  expected  from  the  disparity  of  the 
numbers  engaged.    On  the  right  Antony  s  thirty-fifth 
legion  was  manfully  met  anddriven  back  for  more  than 
fife  hundred  paces  by  eight  cohorts  of  the  Martial 
legion,  under  Sergius  Galba.     The  pr^torian  cohort 
of  Octavius,    stationed   on  the  Amilian  way,  and 
forming  the  centre  of  its  own  force,   distinguished 
itself  also  by  a  desperate  resistance,   but   the   1^ 
^  wing  being  outflanked  and  completely  overthrown 
by  its  opponents,  while  the  cavalry  of  Antony  began 
to  pour  round  in  that  direction  and  to  threaten  the 


506 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


whole   rear,  it  was   deemed  advisable  to  order  an 
immediate  retreat.     This  was,  however,  effected  in 
some  confusion,  and  the  panic  spreading  among  the 
legions  behind,  a  general  flight  of  the  whoTe  army 
at  length'  ensued,  which  was  not  stopped  until  the 
camp,  from  which  they  had  set  out  in  the  morning, 
received  the  vanquished  multitudes,  who  were  fol- 
lowed to  its  very  gates  by  their  pursuers.     It  was 
during  this  disorderly  rout  that  Pansa,  endeavouring 
to  rally  his  broken  columns,  was  struck  down  amidst 
the  tumult,  and  having  received  several  severe  wounds, 
was  with  difficulty  carried  of  the  field  by  his  atten- 
dants to  Bononia.     Not  contented  with  his  first  ad- 
vantage, Antony,  on  coming  up  to  the  entrenchments 
within  which  his  enemies  had  taken  refuge,   gave 
instant  orders  for  carrying  them  by  assault.     In  this 
rash  attempt,  however,  he  was  completely  repulsed, 
and  having  met  with  the  same  ill  success  in  several 
repeated  attacks,  he  was  at  length  obliged  to  draw 
off  his  forces,  having  wasted  much  valuable  time,  and 
no  inconsiderable  number  of  his  troops,  to  no  purpose. 
Meanwhile  the  consul  Hirtius,  on  gaining  intelli- 
gence of  what  was  going  forward,  had,  in  his  turn, 
drawn  out  twenty  veteran   cohorts  composing  the 
seventh  and  fourth  legions,  and  advancing  at  the  head 
of  these  to  Forum  Gallorum,  had  taken  up  the  very 
same  ground  occupied  by  Antony  in  the  morning, 
with  the  intention  of  intercepting  his  retreat.     The 
victorious  army,  returning  from  its  assaults  upon  the 
camp  of  Pansa,  was  thus  assailed  while  labouring 
under  disadvantages  precisely  similar  to  those  which 
had  conduced  to  the  rout  of  its  opponents   a  few 
hours  before,  and  being,  moreover,  fatigued  with  its 
recent  exertions,  was,  after  a  short  resistance,  borne 
back,  and  driven  in  all  directions  before  the  veterans 
of  Hirtius.     Antony,  finding  his  utmost  endeavours 
tore-form  his  flying  legions  unavailing,  made   the 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


507 


1 


best  of  his  way  with  his  cavalry  to  his  lines  before 
Mutina,  which  he  reached  two  hours  before  midnight. 
He  left  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy  two  eagles 
and  sixty  standards,  and  the  flower  of  his  forces 
either  slam  or  disabled,  on  the  ground  over  which  he 
had  on  the  same  day  alternately  passed  as  a  victor 
and  a  fugitive.  -  With  the  exception  of  those  of  the 
Martial  legion  and  the  preetorian  cohorts,  who  fell  in 
the  first  encounter,  the  loss  of  the  consular  armies 
was  but  trifling*. 

This  was  the  first  battle  of  Mutina,  the  intelli- 
gence of  which,  having  arrived  with  the  usual  exag- 
gerations at  Rome  five  days  after  its  occurrence, 
caused  so  general  a  feeling  of  exultation  in  the  city, 
that  the  house   of  Cicero  was   surrounded  by  an 
immense  multitude,  who  insisted  upon  his  conducting 
them  in  solemn  procession  to  the  Capitol,  and  after- 
wards giving  a  public  account  of  the  victory  from 
the  rostra.      He  was  then   escorted   home   amidst 
general  acclamations  and  enthusiastic  expressions  of 
reo-ard.      On  the  day  following t  Marcus  Comutus, 
the  prsetor  urbanus,  having  summoned  a  senate  to 
deliberate  upon  the  subject  of  the  despatches  he  had 
just  received,  it  was  proposed  by -Servilius,  after  the 
usual  recommendation  of  a  public  thanksgiving,  that, 
since  the  imminent  danger  which  had  lately  threat- 
ened the  state  might  now  be  considered  as,  in  a  great 
measure,    past,    the    citizens   should   lay  aside   the 
military  habit,   and  assume  the  ordinary  dress  of 
peace.     This  motion  was  followed  by  the  fourteenth 
Philippic  of  Cicero,  which,  containing  no  ordinary 
beauties  of  language,  possesses  an  additional  interest 
as  the  last  of  his  extant  orations.     After  advising 
the  postponement  of  the  laying  aside  the  military 

•  See  the  letter  of  Galba  to  Cicero,  giving  a  full  account  of  the 
engagement. — Ad  Diversos,  x.  30. 

t  The  twenty-first  of  April,  the  day  before  the  Vinalia. 


508  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

dress,  until  there  existed  no  prospect  of  a  necessity 
for  again  assuming  it,  he  powerfully  argues  m  this 
gpeedi  for  the  necessity  then  existing,  more  strongly 
than  ever,  of  declaring  Antony  a  public  enemy;  botli 
for  the  justification  of  those  who  had  lately  been  in- 
strumental in  the  destruction  of  his  followers  and  m 
order  to  avoid  the  palpable  inconsistency  which  would 
be  manifested  in  decreeing  a  public  thanksgiving  for 
the  defeat  of  a  leader  who  had  not  yet  been  placed 
under  the  ban  of  the  republic.     He  mentions  a  late 
defence  of  himself  by  the  tribune  Apulems,  when, 
after  the  prevalence  of  an  unfavourable  rumour  re- 
specting the  operations  before  Mutina,  he  had  been 
accused,  by  a  confederation  formed  by  the  partisans  ot 
Antony  for  the  especial  purpose  of  his  destruction, 
of  an  intention  of  illegally  assuming  the  consular 
fasces  *  He  dwells  in  terms  of  eloquent  eulogy  upon 
the  conduct  of  the  fourth  and  Martial  legions,  touches 
in  a  strain  of  lofty  pathos  upon  the  fate  of  those  who 
had  faUen,  and  ends  by  recommending  a  pubhc  mo- 
nument in  honour  of  the  slain,  a  supplication  to  the 
gods  of  fifty  days'  continuance,  in  acknowledgment  ot 
the  recent  victory,  and  the  thanks  of  the  nation  to 
Hirtius,  Pansa,  and  Octavius;  the  latter  of  whom  he 
proposes  to  designate  by  the  title  of  imperator,  with 
much   undeserved   commendation  of  his  valour  in 
beating  off  a  division  of  the  enemy  who  had  at- 
tempted to  surprise  his  camp,  while  his  colleagues 
were  engaged  with  Antony  at  Forum  Gallorum. 

The  £cond  battle  of  Mutina  took  place  a  few  days 
after  the  first,  and  seemed  firmly  to  establish  the 
power  of  the  senate,  and  to  complete  the  rum  of  An- 
tony Octavius  and  Hirtius,  conscious  of  the  weak- 
ened condition  of  the  garrison  of  Mutina,  and  the 
impossibility  of  its  holding  out  much  longer  without 
some  means  of  relief,  and,  at  the  same  time,  as  it  may 

'  ♦  Pbilipp.  xiv.  6, 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


509 


' 


\ 


he  naturally  inferred,  flushed  with  the  recollection  of 
their  recent  success,  at  length  resolved  upon  the  bold 
expedient  of  assailing  the  besieging  army  in  their 
entrenchments.     After  one  or  two  days  of  prepara- 
tory  manoeuvring,  Antony,   provoked  by  repeated 
feints  of  attacks  upon  various  quarters,  was  induced 
to   draw  out  the  principal  part  of  his  troops,  and 
fairly  to  offer  battle  before  his  lines.     In  the  engage- 
ment   which  followed  he  sustained  a  defeat  much 
more  serious Jthen  the  first.     With  the  legion  which 
he  had  arrayed  againt  Hirtius  he  was  compelled, 
after  a  severe  struggle,  to  fly  from  the  open  field  to 
the  shelter  of  his  works ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
Decimus  Brutus,  seizing  the  opportunity,  and  furi- 
ously sallying  out  at  the  head  of  his  garrison,  swept 
from  their  position  the  division  which  had  been  left 
to  keep  in  check  any  movement  from  the  town.   Ihe 
victors,  pursuing  their  success,  were  unimpeded  even 
by  the  ditch  and  rampart  protecting  the  camp  of  the 
besiegers  ;  of  which  tbey  would  have  gamed  full  pos- 
session, after  carrying  it  by  storm,  had  not  Hirtms, 
bravely  fighting  at  the  head  of  the  assailants,  been 
killed  in  the  heat  of  the  conflict  close  to  the  tent  of 
Antony*,  together  with  Pontius  Aquila,  one  of  those 
most  deeply  implicated  in  the  conspiracy  against  Julius 
Caesar       By  the  confusion  caused  by  the  fall  of  the 
consul,  and  by  the  neglect  or  inability  of  Octavius  to 
make  the  proper  disposition  to  keep  possession  ot  the 
ground  which  he  had  gained,  Antony  was  enabled  to 
recover  his  lines.     His  army  was,  however  so  terribly 
shattered  by  the  severe  loss  it  had  suffered  that,  deis- 
pairingof  making  any  impression  upon  Mutina,  he 
resolved  at  once  to  abandon  the  siege,  and  decamping 
in  the  night  commenced  his  retreat,  by  forced  marches, 
towards  the  Alps,  in  the  hope  of  receiving  assistance 
from  the  army  of  Lepidus,  which  was  lymg  on  the 

other  side  of  that  mountain  boundary^ 

'  •  Appian,  De  Bellis  Civil,  iii. 


510  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 

At  no  loDg  interval  from  the  occurrence  of  this 
fresh  success,  the  representatives   of  the  Caesarian 
party  in  the  Past  were  reduced  to  the  last  extremi- 
ties by  the  talents  and  courage  of  Caius  Cassius. 
After  several  skirmishes  by  land,  and  one  or  two 
severe  engagements  by  sea,  in  an  attempt  to  trans- 
port his  army  into   Macedonia,  Dolabella,    having 
failed  in  a  plan  for  surprising  the  city  of  Antioch, 
was  compelled  to  take  refuge  in  Laodicea;  where 
his   n.avy   being   annihilated   before   his    eyes,   and 
all   means   of  escape   precluded  by  the  forces  with 
which  Cassius  had  invested  the  place,  he  put  an  end, 
by  the  sword  of  one  of  his  attendants,  to  a  life  pol- 
luted by  every  species  of  villany  and  licentiousness. 
This  last  event  was  not,  indeed,  known  at  Rome  until 
some  time  after  the  raising  of  the  siege  of  Mutina ; 
but  the  general  tenor  of  the  operations  in  Syria  was 
before  ascertained  to  be  such,  as  to  leave  no  doubt  of  a 
favourable  termination  to  the  contest  with  Dolabella. 
Thus,  in  every  quarter,  success  seemed  to  smile  upon 
the  arms  of  the  republic.     It  was,  however,  but  a 
transitory  gleam  of  triumph.     The  highest  point  of 
prosperity  had  now  been  gained ;  and,  little  as  it  was 
expected,  the  change  was  already  begun,  by  which 
disappointments  and  disasters  alone  were  from  hence- 
forth to  attend  the  cause  of  Roman  liberty,  in  its 
rapid  progress  from  a  delusive  state  of  temporary 
vigour  to  utter  and  hopeless  ruin. 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


511 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Death  of  the  Consul  Pansa— Coolness  of  Octavius  towards  the  Cause 
of  the  Senate— Letters  of  Marcus  Brutus  and  Lepidus  to  Cicero 

Lepidus  revolts  to  Antony,  and  is  declared  a  Public  Enemy — 

Octavius  advances  to  Rome,'  and  is  returned  Consul— Universal 
Defection  of  the  Armies  in  the  Western  Provinces— Second 
Triumvirate  and  Proscription  of  the  Republican  Party— Cicero 
flies  to  Astura— Death  of  his  Brother  and  Nephew— He  lands 
near  Caieta— Is  overtaken  and  slain  by  Popilius  Laenas— Insults 
offered  to  his  Remains— Remarks  on  his  Character— Philoso- 
phical Writings— Correspondence — And  Eloquence. 

Antony,   after  decamping  from  Mutina,  was  for 
two  days  suffered  to  continue  his  march  unpursued  ; 
since  Decimus  Brutus,  although  he  had  plainly  per- 
ceived, on  the  morning  after  the  commencement  of 
his  retreat,  the  works  before  the  town  unoccupied 
by  their  customary  guards,  and  the  space  once  covered 
with  the  tents  of  his  adversaries  again  vacant,  did 
not  dare,  with  the  slender  force  at  his  command,  to 
venture  from  his  stronghold,  until  he  had  received 
certain  intelligence  that  the  siege  was  fairly  raised. 
Octavius,  on  his  part,  also,  from  reasons  unexplained, 
remained  inactive  in  his  camp,  without  either  sending 
out  parties  to  harass  the  rear  of  the  retiring  enemy, 
or  even    availing  himself,  for  many  hours,   of   the 
opportunity  of  opening  a  communication  witb  the 
garrison  of  Mutina.     Pansa,  in  the  meantime,  from 
the  effect  of  the  wounds  he  had  received  m  the  first 
engagement  at  Forum  Gallorum,  was  lying  at  the 
poTnt  of  death  in  Bononia.     It  was  extensively  be- 
lieved at  an  after  period,  when  the  conduct  of  Octa- 
vius had  given  an  apparent  sanction  to  the  report, 
that  just  before  he  expired,  the  consul  had  solicited 
a  secret  interview  with  the  young  Caesar,  in  which 
he  earnestly  warned  him  against  placing  any  cont- 


512 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICKRO. 


dence  in  the  senate;  assuring  him,  at  the  game  time, 
that  it  was  their  intention  to  flatter  him  only  as  long 
as  he  might  be  serviceable  in  opposing  the  ambition 
of  Antony,  but  that  his  destruction  might  be  consi- 
dered as  sealed  at  the  first  moment  when  that  re- 
doubted leader  had  ceased  to  be  the  object  of  their 
terror  *.  The  story  was,  no  doubt,  wholly  without 
foundation,  and  forged  either  by  Octavius,  or  by  his 
partisans,  to  justify  his  treacherous  abandonment  of 
the  cause  he  had  at  first  advocated.  No  greater 
credit,  however,  on  the  other  hand,  appears  to  be  due 
to  a  charge,  propagated  with  equal  industry  by  his 
enemies,  that  he  had  caused  Hirtiusto  be  assassinated, 
in  the  heat  and  confusion  of  battle,  by  the  swords  of 
his  own  soldiers,  and  bribed  Glyco,  the  physician  of 
Pansa,  to  pour  poison  into  his  wounds,  which  were 
not  at  first  believed  to  be  mortal  t.  But  it  is  on  all 
hands  agreed,  that  from  henceforth  his  adherence 
to  the  cause  of  the  senate  might  be  considered  as 
merely  nominal,  and  that  he  directly  refused, 
when  strenuously  urged  to  commence  his  march 
without  delay,  to  accompany  Decimus  Brutus  across 
the  Apennines ;  suffering  that  leader  to  continue  the 
pursuit  with  no  other  troops  than  the  wasted  garri- 
son acting  under  his  direction,  and  such  recruits  as 
he  could  hastily  add  to  their  number.  To  this  cir- 
cumstance Brutus,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Cicero, 
attributes,  with  every  appearance  of  justice,  the 
escape  of  the  common  enemy  from  his  hands;  assert- 
ing, that  if  he  had  but  been  seconded,  in  any  respect, 
by  Octavius,  it  would  probably  have  been  in  his 
power  to  finish  the  war  without  another  stroke  J. 

*   Appian.  De  Bellis  Civil,  iv. 

•f*  Tacit.  Annal.  i.  10.     Sucton.  in  August,  xi. 

X  "  Quod  bI  me  Cffisar  audisset  atque  Apenninum  transisset,  in 
tantas  angustias  Antonium  compulissem.  ut  inopi&  potius  quam  ferro 
interficcretur." — Ad  Diversos.  xi.  10.  Dated  from  the  campof  Brutuf, 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


513 


I 


111 


I 


As  it  was,  Antony,  pursuing  his  way  to  the  fens  of 
Sabata  *,  on  the  Ligurian  coast,  a  position  fi-om  which 
it  was  vain  to  attempt  dislodging  him  by  force,  was 
there  joined  by  Ventidius,  with  the  two  legions  which 
he  commanded ;  and  after  making  an  effort  to  sur- 
prise Pollen  tia,  which  was  prevented  by  the  vigilant 
enemy,  still  hanging  with  stern  perseverance  on  his 
rear,  prepared  to  follow  out  his  design  of  crossing  the 
Alps  without  further  delay. 

To  the  interests  of  the  senate  the  deaths  of  Hirtius 
and  Pansa  were  productive  of  serious  detriment ;  as 
by  these  events  the  republic  was  deprived  of  two 
able  officers,  who,  had  they  lived,  would  probably 
have  kept  the  troops  in  their  allegiance ;  while  the 
whole  of  the  force  under  those  generals  was  thrown 
into  the  hands  of  Octavius,  and  the  consulate  exposed 
as  an  irresistible  bait  to  his  ambition.  Their  first 
step  was  to  decree  him  the  honour  of  an  ovation  for 
his  services, — an  exceedingly  politic  distinction; 
since,  in  order  to  enjoy  it,  it  would  be  incumbent 
upon  him  to  disband  his  army,  before  entering 
Rome.  They  then  proceeded  to  bestow  extraordi- 
nary marks  of  their  respect  upon  Decimus  Brutus, 
who,  by  the  arrangement  of  Julius  Caesar,  was  now 
entitled  to  the  vacant  consulship,  declaring  him 
general  of  all  their  forces  both  in  Italy  and  Gaul. 
Nothing  more  imprudent  than  this  decree  could  well 
be  imagined.  From  the  moment  it  was  issued,  the 
future  course  of  Octavius,  which  might  yet  have  been 
altered  by  a  different  policy,  was  determined.  Passing 
at  once  from  the  lukewarm  allegiance,  induced  by 
the  prospects  opening  before  him  after  the  siege  of 
Mutina,  to  a  state  of  open  hostility,  under  pretence 

near  Dertona,  May  5.  In  this  epistle  it  is  also  stated,  that  Antony, 
in  order  to  recruit  his  forces,  had  broken  open  all  the  prisons  on  his 
route.  V 

*  Ad  Diversos,  xi.  10. 

L  L 


514 


THE  LIFE  OP  CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


515 


that  he  had  at  length  discovered  the  real  sentiments 
of  the  republican  party  towards  him,  he  now  began 
to  manifest  a  direct  disobedience  to  their  orders ;  not 
only  refusing  to  part  with  one  of  the  legions  of  Pansa, 
which  Decimus  Brutus  had  demanded,  but  by  in- 
ducing both  the  Fourth  and  Martial  legions,  as  well  as 
the  whole  of  his  own  army,  to  receive  no  orders  but 
such  as  he  himself  thought  fit  to  issue.  The  senti- 
ments of  Cicero  towards  him  at  this  time  are  not 
very  clearly  to  be  ascertained;  his  correspondence 
with  Atticus,  for  so  considerable  a  portion  of  his  life 
the  surest  guide  to  his  real  thoughts  and  feelings, 
having  now  forsaken  the  historian*.  There  is  extant, 
however,  a  letter,  although  of  doubtful  authenticity t, 
addressed  to  Atticus  by  Marcus  Brutus,  which 
makes  severe  mention  of  the  forwardness  of  their 
mutual  friend  in  decreeing  fresh  honours  to  Octavius, 
as  well  as  one  to  Cicero  himself,  censuring  him,  in  no 
gentle  terms,  for  a  request  preferred  to  the  same  indi- 

•  The  last  letter  to  Atticua  is  found  in  the  received  chronolo- 
gical arrangement  before  Ad  Diversos,  xi.  5,  If  this  be  its  true 
place,  it  was  probably  written  some  time  in  the  month  of  Novem- 
ber, in  the  consulate  of  Antony  and  Dolabella  (710),  certainly 
before  the  20th  day  of  December  in  the  same  year. — See  Ad 
Diversos,  xi.  6. 

•f-  As  the  credit  long  given  to  the  whole  series  of  epistles  between 
Cicero  and  Marcus  Brutus  has  been  in  more  recent  times,  to  a 
considerable  extent,  shaken  by  a  nuniber  of  able  critics,  some  apology 
may  be  thought  necessary  for  the  citation  of  any  part  of  their  con- 
tents. Yet,  it  will  be  remembered,  that  although  attacked  by 
Tunstal  and  the  English  scholai-s  of  his  party,  and  considered  as 
spurious  by  Schiitz  and  Orelle,  iht^y  have  been  readily  admitted 
as  genuine  by  Emesti,  and  are  once  more  to  be  found  in  their 
place  in  the  beautiful  edition  of  Cicero  edited  by  Lemaire.  The 
testimony  of  Gesner,  although  apparently  only  based  on  the  de- 
fence of  these  letters  by  Dr.  Middletou,  is  also  decidedly  in  their 
favour: — ♦•  De  epistolis  ad  Brutum  longior  fab.ila,  disputatio  im- 
peditior  est,  a  me  quidera  non  ita  excussa  et  exquivita,  ut  abscisse 
pronuntiare  audeam,  nisi  quod  sufGccre  mihi  hactenus  videbatur 
Middletoniana  defensio,  ut  nov&  opera  ne  valde  quidem  opus  sit." 


r 


i 


vidual  respecting  the  safety  of  the  writer,  in  which 
the  free  spirit  of  the  indignant  patriot  breathes  from 
every  sentence  : — "  Reconsider  your  own  words,"  he 
indignantly  remonstrates,   "and  dare,   if  you  can, 
deny  that  they  are  precisely  those  of  one  completely 
subservient  to  the  will  of  a  despotic  master.     You 
write  to  Octavius,  that  there  is  one  thing  which  is 
expected  and  demanded  of  him,  namely,  that  it  may 
be  his  pleasure,  that  those  whom  all  good  men  as 
well  as  the  Roman  people  hold  in  the  highest  esti- 
mation may  continue  in  safety.     What,  if  it  is  not  ? 
Shall  we  be  the  less  safe  on  that  account  ?    If  so,  far 
better  were  peril,  than  safety  from  such  a  source.     I, 
however,  cannot  bring  myself  to  think  that  the  gods 
are  so  far  averse  to  the  well-being  of  the  people  of 
Rome,  as  to  render  it  necessary  that  Octavius  should 
be  entreated  for  the  safety  of  a  single  citizen,  far  less 
for  that  of  the  liberators  of  the  whole  earth;  for  I 
take   pleasure,    as  well   I    may,   in   speaking   thus 
proudly  of  myself  to  one,  who  seems  to  be  ignorant 
both  of  what  he  ought  to  fear  for  his  friends,  and 
whom  he  ought  to  petition  for  favours.     Can  you, 
Cicero,  acknowledge  that  Octavius  possesses  so  ex- 
tensive a  power,  and  remain  his  friend  ?  or,  if  I  am 
still  dear  to  you,   can   you  wish  me  to  appear  at 
Rome,  when,  in  order  to  remain  there,  I  must  first 
be  recommended  to  the  favour  of  a  boy  ?     What 
reason  is  there  for  your  bestowing  thanks  upon  him, 
if  he  is  still  to  be  entreated  for  our  safety  ?    Or  is  this 
to  be  accounted  a  benefit,  that  he  prefers  your  sup- 
plications to  be  addressed  to  himself  rather  than  to 
Antony?     To  one  exacting  vengeance  for  despotic 
power  as  exercised  by  another,  and  not  himself  a 
successor  to  the  same  despotism,  who  would   ever 
think  of  preferring  the  reque8t,  that  hewould  assentto 
the  preservation  of  the  benefactors  of  the  republic*  V 

*  Ad  Brut.  Epist.  xvi. 
L  L  2 


516 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


From  these  and  similar  passages,  if  they  are  to  be 
considered  genuine  evidence,  there  seems  too  much 
reason  to  believe  that  Cicero  was  agam  falling  mto 
his  old  fault  of  flattering  the   powerful,  and  con- 
tributing to  the  presumptuous  ambition  of  a  youth 
in  whom,  by  the  exercise  of  his  ordinary  sagacity, 
he  might  have  already  discovered  one  to  be  guarded 
airainst  by  the  friends  to  the  constitution,  with  far 
greater    precautions    than   those   employed    against 
Antony.     It  is  probable,  also,  that  he  was  in  no 
slight  degree  led  into  subservience  to  the  designs  of 
Octavius  by  the  title   of  "  Father,"  at   this  time 
usually  bestowed  upon  him  by  his  pretended  pupil 
in  state  affairs,  as  well  as  by  a  continued  show  of 
deference  to  his  opinions.     By  some  authors  it  is 
stated,  that  he  was  additionally  amused  by  a  project 
thrown  out  by  Octavius  of  being  united  with  himself 
in  an  application  for  the  consulship,  and  that  the 
success  of  the  ai-tifice  was  afterwards  made  a  subject 
of  boastina  by  its  inventor.     That  his  elevation  a 
second  tim'^e  to  the  highest  dignity  of  the  state  was 
confidently  expected,  and  that  the  rumour  was  so 
general  as  to  reach  the  provinces,  appears  from  a 
letter  of  Marcus  Brutus,  congratulating  hinriself  upon 
the  firm  re-establishment   of  the   republic    as   the 
natural  consequence  of  such  an  event*.     All  partici- 
pation in  the  design  of  raising  Octavius  to  the  same 
honour,  however,  Cicero,  or  perhaps  his  imitator,  m 
return  explicitly  denies  ;  asserting,  that  he  had  not 
only  strenuously  advised   the   abandonment    of  so 
extraordinary  and  dangerous  an  application   in  his 
private  letters,  but  openly  and  vehemently  denounced 
it  in  the  senate,  where  the  palpable  ambition  which 
had  prompted  the  attempt  was  so  justly  appreciated, 
that  not   a   single   magistrate,  tribune,    or   private 
member  of  the  assembly,  could  be  found  to  make  the 

•  Ad  Brut.  Epist.  iv. 


i 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO.  517 

necessary  motion    for   bringing   it   formally   under 
consideration*. 

In  the  mean  time,  Antony,  closely  followed  by 
Decimus  Brutus,  (who,  although  in  consequence  of 
the  accession  of  the  new  levies  lately  serving  under 
Pansa  he  was  now  at  the  head  of  seven  legions,  still 
considered  himself  too  weak  to  hazard  a  general 
engagement  with  the  veterans  of  his  antagonist  and 
those  of  Ventidius  united,)  was  continuing  his  me-^ 
morable  retreat  across  the  Alps,  in  order  to  place  his 
forces  in  communication  with  those  of  Lepidus. 
During  this  hazardous  and  all  but  desperate  march, 
miseries  the  most  appalling  were  endured  both  by 
himself  and  his  army,  with  astonishing  intrepidity 
and  unwavering  constancy.  The  only  provision 
yielded  by  the  less  wild  and  barren  defiles  which 
they  threaded,  consisting  of  unpalatable  herbs  and 
roots,  was  eagerly  devoured ;  and  when  this  wretched 
means  of  sustenance  had  failed,  the  troops  were  com- 
pelled to  allay  their  hunger  with  the  pounded  bark 
of  trees,  and  the  flesh  of  whatever  creatures  chance 
had  thrown  in  their  way,  however  disgusting  to  the 
sight t.     After  suffering,  however,  all  the  extremi- 

•  Ad  Brut.  Epist.  x. 
•f*  Plutarcl).  in  Anton. — See,  also,   the  powerful  description  of 
Shakspeare,  Antony  and  Cleopatra^  act  i.  sc.  iv. 

Antony, 
Leave  thy  lascivious  wassels.     When  thon  once 
Wast  beaten  from  Modena,  where  thou  slew'st  ' , 

Hirtius  and  Pansa,  consuls,  at  thy  heel 
Did  Fanaine  follow ;  whom  thou  fought*8t  against, 
Though  daintily  brought  up,  with  patience  more 
Than  savages  could  suifer- 


Thy  palate  then  did  deign 
The  roughest  berry  on  the  rudest  hedge  ; 
Yea,  like  a  st.ig,  when  snow  the  pasture  sheets, 
The  bark  of  trees  thou  browsed'st;  on  the  Alps, 
It  is  reported,  thou  didst  eat  strange  flesh, 
Which  some  did  die  to  look  on.     And  all  this 


518 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


ties  of  cold  and  famine,  they  at  length  arrived,  by  a 
toilsome  and  painful  descent  into  Gaul,  at  Forum 
Julii,  on  the  15th  of  May,  where  their  fortitude  was 
rewarded  with  abundance  and  comfort,  in  quarters 
established  near  the  entrenchments  of  Lepidus,  from 
which  they  were  only  separated  by  the  little  river 
Argenteus.     While  Antony  was  yet  moving  towards 
him   from   Italy,   Plancus,    excited   by  the  earnest 
exhortations  of  Cicero  to  destroy  him  in  his  present 
condition  of  weakness  and  destitution,  had  advanced 
his  legions  towards  the  Isara,  for  the  purpose  of  acting 
in  conjunction  with  Decimus  Brutus  immediately  after 
the  arrival  of  the  latter  in  Gaul.     Being,  however, 
summoned  by  Lepidus  to  join  him,  he  had  aban- 
doned his  first  plan,  and  hastening  to  the  support  of 
that  general,  was  now  directing  his  march  towards 
Forum  Voconii,  having  first  thrown  a  fortified  bridge 
over  the  Isara  to  aiFord  a  free  passage  to  Brutus.     In 
this  state  of  affairs,  Lepidus,  whether  with  the  in- 
tention of  amusing  the  senate  as  long  as  possible,  or 
really  desirous,  up  to  the  present  moment,  of  sup- 
porting their  cause,  wrote  to  Cicero  as  follows : — 

*'  MARCUS  LEPIDUS,  IMPERATOR,  AND  PONTIFEX  MAXI- 
MU8,  WISHES  PUBLIC  PROSPERITY  TO  MARCUS 
TULLIUS  CICERO. 

"  Having  received  intelligence  that  Antony,  after 
having  sent  forward  Lucius  Antonius  with  a  party 
of  his  cavalry,  was  approaching  my  province  with  his 
forces,  I  decided  upon  moving  my  army  from  the  con- 
fluence of  the  Rhone  and  Arar,  with  the  determination 
of  preventing  them .  I  therefore  advanced,  by  marches 
continued  without  interruption,  to  Forum  Voconii, 
and  have  encamped  beyond  the  town,  on  the  banks 

(It  wounds  thine  honour,  that  I  speak  it  now,) 
Was  borne  so  like  a  soldier,  that  thy  cheek 
So  much  as  lankM  not. 


i 


I 


*^ 


THE  LIFE  OF  CICERO.  519 

of  the  Argenteus,  exactly  opposite  the  lines  of 
Antony.  Publius  Ventidius,  with  his  three  legions, 
has  joined  him,  and  established  his  camp  somewhat 
higher  up  the  river  than  mine.  Antony  had  before 
this  under  his  command  the  whole  of  the  second,  and 
a  multitude  of  soldiers  from  other  legions,  although 
without  their  arms.  His  cavalry  is  considerable, 
since  this  part  of  his  force  escaped  unbroken  from 
the  field. 

"  Several  both  of  his  horse  and  foot  have  already 
come  over  to  our  camp,  and  his  strength  is  diminish- 
ing daily.  Silanus  and  Calleo  have  deserted  from  him. 
Although  highly  oflfended  at  their  having  joined  him 
contrary  to  my  desire,  I  have,  in  order  to  maintain 
my  character  for  clemency,  and  in  consideration  of 
our  intimate  acquaintance,  inflicted  no  punishment 
upon  them,  I  do  not,  liowever,  suffer  them  to  be 
in  my  camp,  or  to  take  upon  them  any  command. 

"  As  to  the  present  war,  I  shall  neither  be  wanting 
in  my  duty  to  the  senate  nor  to  the  republic,  and  I  will 
take  care  to  make  you  acquainted  with  all  my  future 
proceedings.  Although  we  have  hitherto  been  rivals 
in  our  attempts  to  confer  benefits  upon  each  other, 
I  doubt  not  that  in  so  extensive  and  unexpected  a 
commotion  of  the  state,  some  accusations  unworthy 
of  my  character  have  been  brought  against  me  by 
my  calumniators  in  your  hearing,  which,  from  your 
zeal  for  the  interests  of  the  republic,  may  have  made 
an  unfavourable  impression  upon  your  mind.  I  am 
informed,  however,  by  my  agents,  that  you  have 
received  all  intelligence  of  this  kind  with  little  appear- 
ance of  being  moved  by  it,  and  that  you  have  shown 
a  disposition  not  to  give  credence  rashly  to  any  such 
reports.  This  conduct  of  yours  has  justly  given  me 
the  highest  gratification.  I  have  not,  at  the  same 
time,  forgotten  those  former  exertions  on  your 
part,  the  results  of  your  friendship,  to  increase  my 


f 


520 


THE    LIFE    OF   CICERO. 


public  honours,  of  which  the  recollection  will  ever 
remain  engraven  on  my  heart. 

"  1  earnestly  entreat  you,  my  dear  Cicero,  if  you 
have  hitherto  considered  my  conduct  and  exertions 
in  my  public  employments  such  as  not  to  disgrace 
my  name,  to  expect  from  me  a  similar,  or  even  more 
devoted  course  of  action  for  the  time  to  come ;  and  to 
believe,  that  in  proportion  to  the  benefits  you  have 
already  conferred  upon  me,  are  your  inducements 
now  to   defend   me  with   all   your  authority   and 

influence.     Farewell*. 

"  From  my  Camp  at  Pons  Argenteus." 

This  letter  was  dated  on  the  twenty- second  day  of 
May.  On  the  twenty-ninth  of  the  same  month,  the 
soldiers  of  Lepidus  were  included  in  a  common  camp 
with  those  of  the  enemy  of  the  senate.  Antony, 
after  he  had  carefully  sounded  the  inclinations  of  the 
army  stationed  opposite  to  him,  by  means  of  his 
emissaries,  and  received  in  return  the  information 
that  he  had  only  to  present  himself  in  person  to 
receive  its  submission,  on  making  his  appearance 
before  the  lines  in  a  mourning  habit,  and  with  all  the 
external  signs  of  deep  distress,  was  hailed  with 
clamorous  enthusiasm  by  the  crowds  who  collected 
upon  the  ramparts  to  listen  to  his  harangue.  En- 
couraged by  a  reception  so  confirmatory  of  what  he 
had  previously  heard,  he  ventured  on  the  following 
morning  to  cross  the  river  at  the  head  of  his  forces, 
and  was  without  further  delay  admitted  into  their 
camp  by  those  of  Lepidus,  who  levelled  a  great  part  of 
its  defences  to  give  him  a  readier  entrance.  It  is 
uncertain  to  what  extent  the  general  of  the  revolting 
army  was  concerned  in  its  defection.  Plutarch 
affirms  t  that  he  had  on  the  day  preceding  put  a 
stop  to  the  speech  of  Antony,  by  ordering  all  his 
trumpets  to  sound ;  and  Plancus  relates,  in  his  letter 
*  Ad  DiTci-sos,  X.  34,  f  Plutai^h.  in  Anton. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO,  521 

to  Cicero  *,  giving  an  account  of  the  transaction, 
that  while  addressing  his  soldiers  from  his  tribunal, 
in  order  to  exhort  them  to  continue  in  their  allegiance, 
he  was  interrupted  by  repeated  shouts,  to  the  eflect 
that  they  were  determined  to  hazard  their  lives  no 
longer  in  defence  of  either  of  the  parties  between 
which  the  state  was  divided — that  the  loss  of  two 
consuls  and  an  immense  multitude  of  Romans,  with 
the  condemnation  as  public  enemies,  and  confiscation 
of  the  goods  of  others,  was  an  ample  sacrifice  to  the 
unnatural  contest  in  which  they  were  attempted  to 
be  involved — that  they  had,  therefore,  resolved  upon 
an  immediate  and  lasting  peace,  and  intended,  so  far 
as  their  own  neutrality  could  conduce  to  so  desirable 
a  result,  to  ensure  it.  But  the  same  correspondent 
intimates,  that  this  circumstance  was  far  from  ex- 
culpating their  leader  from  the  guilt  of  deliberate 
treason,  since  from  the  first  appearance  of  the  mutiny 
he  had  taken  no  steps  to  prevent  it,  and  positively 
countermanded  his  fonner  directions  to  Plancus  to 
effect  an  immediate  junction  with  his  legions. 
Lepidus,  however,  whose  estates  were  yet  at  the 
mercy  of  the  senate,  imagining  that  it  would  be  most 
to  his  interest  to  induce  them  to  believe,  as  long  as 
possible,  that  his  recent  conduct  had  been  the  effect 
of  compulsion,  forwarded  the  following  despatch  in 
his  own  vindication  : — 

"  MARCUS  LEPIDUS  IMPERATOR,  AND  PONTIFEX  MAXI- 
MUS,  WISHES  HEALTH  TO  THE  SENATE,  ROMAN 
PEOPLE,    AND    COMMONS. 

"  I  call  gods  and  men.  Conscript  Fathers,  to  bear 
witness  to  the  sincere  and  constant  affection  I  have 
always  entertained  towards  the  republic,  and  to  my 
preference  of  the  common  safety  and  freedom,  to 
every  other  consideration.     Of  this  I  should  have 

*  Ad  Diversos,  x.  2 1 . 


I 


522 


THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 


had,  in  a  short  time,  an  opportunity  of  convincing 
you,  had  not  fortune  wrested  from  me  the  means  of 
executing  my  designs.  For  my  whole  army  have 
acted  in  accordance  with  their  usual  sentiments  with 
respect  to  the  preservation  of  their  fellow-country- 
men, having  manifested  their  inclinations  by  a  general 
mutiny,  and  compelled  me,  to  speak  the  truth,  to 
undertake  to  maintain  the  safety  of  this  great  body 
of  Roman  citizens.  Upon  this  question  I  entreat  and 
conjure  you,  Conscript  Fathers,  to  lay  aside  all  pri- 
vate resentments,  and  to  consult  the  general  welfare  ; 
nor  to  consider  the  present  instance  of  compassion, 
shown  amidst  civil  commotions  by  myself  and  my 
forces,  in  the  light  of  a  crime.  If,  moreover,  you 
should  be  induced  to  act  in  such  a  manner,  as  to 
show  your  regard  for  the  security  and  dignity  of  all 
parties,  you  will  take  the  most  prudent  course,  both 
for  the  advancement  of  your  own  interests,  and  those 
of  the  state.  Given  from  my  camp  at  Pons  Argen- 
tens.  May  30th  *." 

Lepidus,  notwithstanding  his  attempt  to  soften  the 
displeasure  of  the  party  he  had  now  openly  forsaken, 
was  declared  a  public  enemy,  at  an  assembly  of  the 
senate  held  on  the  30th  day  of  June.  His  estates 
were,  at  the  same  time,  ordered  to  be  confiscated,  and 
the  gilded  statue,  lately  erected  to  his  honour,  to  be 
ignominiously  demolished  ;  although  the  opportunity 
of  returning  to  their  allegiance,  under  the  shelter  of 
a  free  pardon,  was  yet  offered  to  himself  and  his 
adherents,  until  the  first  day  of  the  following  Sep- 
tember. In  their  prompt  and  vigorous  decree  against 
him,  the  senate  were  encouraged  by  the  appearance 
of  unshaken  fidelity  still  maintained  by  Plancus. 
'  This  officer,  after  sending  immediate  information  of 
the  defection  of  Lepidus,  had  promptly  fallen  back 
across  the  Isara,  and  having  broken  down  the  bridge 

•  Ad  Divcraos,  x.  35. 


i 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


523 


i 


which  he  had  lately  thrown  over  the  river,  had  suc- 
ceeded in  effecting  a  junction  with  the  legions  of 
Decimus  Brutus  *,  which  were  by  this  time  concen- 
trated after  their  arrival  in  Gaul.  Thus  posted,  he 
still  promised,  with  the  aid  of  the  imposing  reinforce- 
ments he  had  just  received  and  the  strong  natural 
means  of  defence  in  his  front,  to  give  Antony  and  his 
colleague  ample  employment,  until  the  army  of  Octa- 
vius,  the  march  of  which  he  pressed  by  earnest  and 
repeated  letters,  should  come  up  to  his  assistance  t. 
Alarmed  at  the  recent  change  of  affairs,  Cicero,  who 
still  continued  to  keep  his  post  without  shrinking 
at  the  helm  of  state,  now  redoubled,  on  his  part,  the 
requests  he  had  recently  begun  to  prefer  to  Brutus 
and  Cassius,  to  transport  their  troops  into  Italy,  in 
order  to  counterbalance  the  increasing  strength  of 
the  party  disaffected  to  the  republic  {.  It  may  be 
doubted,  whether  either  of  these  generals  possessed 
the  power  of  complying  with  the  demand ;  but  no 
question  can  exist  as  to  the  soundness  of  the  policy 
by  which  it  was  dictated. 

Although  the  senate,  fully  sensible  of  their  former 
error  in  policy,  had  endeavoured  to  pacify  the  selfish 
pride  of  Octavius,  by  assigning  him  the  commission 
of  defending  the  frontiers  of  Italy  against  Antony 
and  Lepidus,  the  concession  was  made  too  late  to 
obviate  the  effect  of  their  former  decree  in  favour  of 
Decimus   Brutus.      So  far  from  being  disposed   to 

*  Ad  Divei-sos,  xi.  15. 

f  Veniat  Caesar  cum  copiis  quas  habet  firraissimas,  &c.  (Ad 
Diversos,  x.  23.)  Nihil  destiti  eum  (sc.  Csesarem)  liteiis  hortari, 
neque  ille  intermisit  affirmare  se  sine  mora  veaturum. — Ad  Divers. 
X.  24. 

^  Itaque  optamus  ut  quam  primum  te  in  Italic  videamus. 
Rempublicam  nos  habere  arbitrabiraur  si  vos  habebimus,  (Ad 
Diversos,  xii.  10. — to  Caius  Cassius).  Persuade  libi  igitur  in  teet  in 
Bnito  tuo  esse  omnia  j  vos  expcctari ;  Brutum  quidem  jam  jamque. 
—Ibid. 


524  THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 

prevent  the  approach  of  any  force  acting  against  them, 
he  was  at  this  time  in  actual  correspondence  with 
their  enemies.     His  alienation  from  Cicero  he  did 
not  scruple  openly  to  confess,  assigning  as  the  reason 
that  the  latter  had  often  contemptuously  termed  him 
a  boy,  and  asserted  that  the  policy  of  the  senate 
towards  him  should  be  to  flatter,   to  elevate,  and, 
finally,  to  destroy  him  *.     Information  of  this  was 
conveyed  to  Cicero,  by  way  of  warning,  in  a  letter 
from  Decimus  Brutus,  who  added  that  he  was  in- 
debted for  his  knowledge  of  the  fact  to  Labeo  Segu- 
lius,  who  had  just  reached  him,   after  an  interview 
with  Csesar ;    and   whom   he  strongly  suspected   of 
having  hims^'lf  played  the  part  of  informant,  with 
respect  to  the  obnoxious  words  which  were  the  sub- 
ject of  complaint.     Cicero  was,  in  the  same  epistle, 
cautioned  against  the  resentment  of  the  veterans,  who 
were  described  as  strongly  exasperated  at  his  con- 
duct.     *'  May  the   gods  confound   that   Segulius," 
writes  the  orator  in  reply,  "  the  greatest  of  villains, 
past,  present,  or  to  come.     Do  you  suppose  he  has 
communicated  this   calumny  to   you,   or  to  Caesar 
alone  ?     There  is  not  a  being  with  whom  he  has  any 
intercourse,  who  has  not  heard  the  very  same  words 
from  his  lips.     I,   however,  esteem  you,  my  dear 
Brutus,  as  I  ought,  for  acquainting  me  with  the  cir- 
cumstance, frivolous  and  contemptible  as  it  is.     As 
to  Segulius,   I  am  well  content  to  allow  him  to  pro- 
pagate his  slanders  unheeded,  since  all  he  seeks  by 
it  is   to  repair   his  ruined   fortunes."      The  intelli- 
gence respecting  his   unpopularity  among  the  vete- 
rans, which  had  arisen  from  the  absence  of  the  nanies 
of  Octavius  and  Brutus  in  a  commission  for  dividing 
certain  lands  among  them,  he  treats  in  a  style  of 
similar  indifference  f, 

•  Laudandum  juvenetn,ornaiidun),  toUendum. — Ad  Divers,  xi.  20, 

f  Ad  Di versos,  xi.  21. 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


525 


tit 


Tliese  ready  instruments  of  a  crafty  leader,  how- 
ever, encouraged  by  the  secret  instructions  of  their 
commander,  began  every  day  to  assume  a  more  im- 
perious bearing,  and  to  exercise  a  greater  influence 
in  the  manacjement   of  the  state.     After  numerous 
messages  between  the  senate  and  the  army  upon  the 
frontier,  on  the  subject  of  their  claims  to  past  arrears, 
in  which  threatening  on  the  one  side,  and  bribery  on 
the  other,   had  been  extensively  tried  without  effect, 
a    deputation,    consisting   of    forty   centurions  and 
two  hundred    private  soldiers,  appeared   at  Rome 
from  the  camp,  to  demand,  as  the  readiest  method 
of  composing  all  differences,  the  honour  of  the  con- 
sulship for  Octavius.     The  senate,  with  whom  they 
were  admitted  to  repeated  interviews,  and  who  had 
yet  enough  of  the  old  Roman  spirit  remaining  among 
them  to  feel  in  the  highest  degree  indignant  at  this 
insolent  demand,  attempted  to   gain    time   by  the 
proposed  expedient  of  immediately  sending  a  deputa- 
tion of  their  own,  ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  settling 
part  of  the  claims  of  the  soldiery  upon  the  state,  but 
with  the  real  intention  of  inducing  them,  by  liberal 
promises,  to  desert  their  present  general.     The  rude 
veterans,   however,  easily  saw  through  the  project, 
and  resented  it  accordingly.     One  of  them  is  said  to 
have  answered  the  proposition  of  the  assembly  by 
significantly  pointing  to  the  hilt  of  his  dagger;  and 
another  to  have  exclaimed,  while  resuming  his  sword 
at  the   door  of  the  house, — "  If  you  do  not  think 
fit  to  confer  the  consulate  upon  Octavius,  this  shall." 
"  Nay,"  exclaimed  Cicero,   who  was  present,  and 
listened  to  the  threat,   "  if  this  is  the  style  of  your 
entreaty,  you  cannot   fail  of  being  heard.  *"     The 
subject,  however,  was  speedily  found  to  afford  little 
room  for  jesting.     Octavius,  on  receiving  information 
of  the  hesitation   of  the  senate    in    deciding   with 

*  Dio  Cassius,  xlvi. 


526 


THE   UPE   OP   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


527 


respect  to  his  claim,  at  once  raising  his  camp,  began 
to  advance  upon  the  capital,  and  meeting  on  his 
road  the  commissioners  gent  to  treat  with  his 
army,  took  no  other  notice  of  them  than  to  command 
them  on  their  peril  not  to  impede  his  march.  A 
slight  hope  of  resistance  was  for  a  short  time  afforded 
to  the  republicans  in  Rome  by  the  arrival  of  two 
legions  from  foreign  service  in  Africa  ;  but  these  also 
being  seized  with  the  general  contagion,  it  was 
determined  to  endeavour  to  deprecate  the  resentment . 
of  Csesar,  by  yielding  to  him  the  honour  which  he 
demanded.  He  was  therefore  elected  consul  imnae- 
diately  after  his  arrival  in  the  city,  in  conjunction 
with  Quintus  Pedius,  and  without  the  least  mention 
having  been  made  of  Cicero ;  who  is  said  to  have  re- 
quested an  interview  with  him,  and  to  have  received 
the  reproach  that  he  was  full  late  in  the  offer  of  his 
services*.  The  new  magistrate  was  then  solemnly 
adopted  in  the  usual  form  into  the  family  of  the 
Caesars,  and  soon  afterwards  again  set  out  for  Gaul ; 
but  not  until  he  had  given  a  manifest  indication  of 
the  line  of  policy  he  was  about  to  adopt,  by  procur- 
ing a  repeal  of  the  decree  recently  passed  against 
Dolabella,  and  instigating  his  colleague  Pedius  to 
propose  the  law  afterwards  known  by  his  name, 
ordaining  that  immediate  inquiry  should  be  made 
into  the  death  of  Julius  Caesar,  and  his  assassins 
formally  brought  to  trial.  In  the  proceedings  insti- 
tuted by  virtue  of  this  statute,  Brutus  and  Cassius, 
with  a  number  of  their  confederates,  were  publicly 
cited,  and,  in  default  of  their  appearance  to  the  sum- 
mons, condemned  by  a  majority  of  their  judges. 

These  were  severe  blows  to  the  party  of  the  repub- 
lic ;  but  still  more  disastrous  events  were  to  follow. 
In    Italy  and   the    western    provinces,    their  cause, 
already  shaken  by  the  defection   of   Lepidus,   now 
*  Appian.  De  Bcllis  Civil,  iv. 


ii 


r 


went  rapidly  to  ruin.  In  Transalpine  Gaul,  Plan- 
cus,  although  he  had  a  short  time  before  assured 
Cicero  of  his  resolve  to  submit  to  any  extremity,  and 
even  to  encounter  death  itself,  rather  than  abandon 
the  principles  for  which  he  was  contending*,  was 
induced  to  listen  to  the  overtures  of  Antony  and 
Lepidus,  and  finally  to  join  them  with  his  whole 
army.  The  desertion  of  Asinius  Pollio  in  Spain 
followed,  by  which  three  legions  more  were  lost  to 
the  service  of  the  senate.  Decimus  Brutus,  being 
thus  left  to  cope  single-handed  with  immensely 
superior  numbers,  was  speedily  obliged  to  quit  the 
field,  and  to  set  out  for  Illyricum,  with  the  inten«- 
tion  of  adding  his  force,  consisting  of  ten  nominal 
legions,  to  that  of  Marcus  Brutus.  But  almost  the 
whole  of  his  army, — six  legions  of  which  consisted  of 
raw  levies,  totally  unacquainted  with  severe  service, — 
having  melted  away  from  his  standard,  he  was  at 
length  compelled  to  disband  the  few  who  remained, 
and  to  retire  in  disguise  to  Aquileia,  where,  having 
been  taken  prisoner  by  a  predatory  tribe  of  Gauls, 
by  whose  chief  his  person  was  recognised,  he  was 
soon  afterwards  put  to  death,  in  consequence  of 
orders  received  from  the  head-quarters  of  Autonyf . 

Such  was  the  first  scene  in  the  terrible  drama  of 
retaliation  now  about  to  be  exhibited.  The  armies 
of  Octavius,  Lepidus,  and  Antony,  were  soon  after, 
as  a  conclusion  to  the  negotiations  which  had  been 
long  secretly  carried  on  between  the  three  generals, 
concentrated  once  more  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Mutina ;  the  passes  of  the  Alps  having  been  left 
freely  open  by  Octavius  for  the  descent  of  his  recent 
adversaries  to  the  conference  which  they  had  pro- 
posed,   preliminaries   to   which    were   speedily   and 

*  Nee  depugnare  si  occasio  tulerit,  nee  obsideri  si  necesse 
fuerit,  nee  mori  si  casus  incident,  pro  vobis  paratior  fuit  quisquam. 
— Ad  Diversos,  x.  21. 

f  Appiau.  DeBellis  Civil,  iv.  ;  Dio  Cassius,  xlvi. 


1 


5-28 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


629 


easily  adjusted.     The  place  of  meeting  was  a  small 
island  in  the  middle  of  the  river  Rhenus,  upon  either 
shore  of  which  five  legions  were  drawn  up  in  order 
of  battle,  each  detachment  guarding  the  access  to  a 
bridge  communicating  with  the  island  from  its  own 
side'^of  the  stream.      Lepidus   was  the   first   who 
crossed  over  ;  and  having  ascertained  that  no  ambush 
had  been  laid  either  by  Antony  or  Octavius  against 
the  life  of  his  rival,  gave  notice  to  the  two  leaders 
that  thev  might   approach   the  spot  with  safety*. 
The  feeling  of  suspicion  was  nevertheless  so  strongly 
impressed  upon  all   parties,   that   their  first  action 
upon  meeting  was  to  search  each  other  s  persons  for 
concealed  weapons.     Their  deliberations  were  then, 
without  farther  delay,  directed  to  the  formation  of 
the  celebrated  league,  known  as  the  second  trium- 
virate, by  which  the  whole  power   of  nominating 
magistrates,   conferring  honours,  and  assigning  pro- 
vinces, was  quietly  assumed  as  the  first  step  to  the 
military  despotism  they  were  on  the  point  of  esta- 
blishing.    The  government  of  Spain,  with  the  con- 
sulship during  the  ensuing  year,  was  then  surrendered 
to  Lepidus  ;  that  of  the  Gauls  appointed  to  Antony  ; 
and  Africa,  with  the  islands  of  Sicily  and  Sardinia, 
appointed,  as  his  share  of  the  spoil,  to  Octavius.  The 
war  with  Brutus  andCassius  next  came  under  conside- 
ration ;  and  it  was  resolved  that  Octavius  and  Antony 
should  be  jointly  entrusted  with  the  command  against 
them,  while  Lepidus  should  be  invested  with  the  go- 
vernment of  the  city  during  the  absence  of  his  colleagues. 
The  announcement  of  these  several  arrangements  was 
received  vdth  loud  applause  by  the  troops  who  hned 
the  banks  of  the  river;  and  to  whom  it  was  farther 
communicated,  that  a    dismissal  from   service  and 
large  distributions    of  land  should  constitute  their 
certain  recompense  at  the  conclusion  of  the   war. 
After  this  opening  business  of  the  confederacy,   m 

*  Appian.  De  Bellis  Civil,  iv. 


11 

4 


which  the  marriage  of  Octavius  with  the  daughter 
of  Fulvia  also  formed  an  article,   as  an   additional 
means   of    conducing    to  a  union   of  interests,  the 
more  terrible  subject  of  deliberation  which  has  ren- 
dered this  diabolical  council  a  subject  of  execration 
in  all  ages  was  brought  under  notice  ;  and  in  the 
space  of  three  days,  the  vindictive  recollection  of  the 
triumvirs  had  supplied  a  list  of  no  less  than  three 
hundred  senators,  and  two  thousand  of  the  equestrian 
order,  with   numbers  of  inferior  rank,   as  the  first 
victims  to  the  proscription  which  they  intended  to 
set  on  foot  immediately  on  their  arrival  in  Rome. 
In  the  selection  of  these,  considerable  differences  at 
first  arose      Cicero,   whom  the  eager  hatred  of  An- 
tony had  at  once  destined  to  the  swords  of  his  fol- 
lowers, was  protected,  according  to  tradition,  for  two 
days  by  the  reluctance  of  Octavius  to  consign  him  to 
destruction ;  which  was  only  overcome  by  the  offer 
of  Antony  to  barter  the  blood   of  his   own   uncle 
Lucius,  an  object  of  especial  enmity  to  the  youthful 
murderer,  for  that  of  the  great  orator  by  whom  his 
character  had  been  so  effectually  consigned  to  undying 
infamy.     Lepidus,  at  the  same  time,  consented,  for 
the  gratification  of  both,  that  his   brother  Lucius 
Paulus  should  be  placed  among  the  ranks  of  those 
doomed  to  indiscriminate  slaughter.     The  whole  of 
this  inhuman  plan  it  was  not  deemed  advisable  at  first 
openly  to  publish.     Yet,  in  their  impatient  thirst 
for  bloodshed,  the  triumvirs  could  not  refrain  from 
selecting  seventeen  individuals  as  immediate  sacnfices 
to  their  resentment,  and  sending  forward  their  most 
trusty    emissaries    to   commence   the    massacre   by 
their  deaths.     Having  then  ratified  their  union  by 
the  most  solemn  oaths,  the  generals  separated  ;   and 
placing  themselves  at  the  head  of  their  respective 
armies,  commenced  their  ominous   march  towards 
Rome. 

M    M 


530 


! 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


The  arrival  of  the  murderers  commissioned  to  seek 
out  the  first  objects  of  destruction,  and  the  immediate 
assassination  of  four  among  the  number,  threw  the 
whole  city  into  a  frightful  state  of  apprehension  and 
dismay;  the  greater  part  of  its  inhabitants  know- 
ing neither  the  extent  of  the  intended  vengeance,  nor 
the  class  of  persons  upon  whom  it  was  chiefly  des- 
tined to  fall.  In  the  desperation  occasioned  by  the 
consciousness  of  their  conduct  having  been  such  as  to 
make  them  marked  subjects  of  the  dislike  or  sus- 
picion of  the  triumvirate,  several  among  the  repub- 
licans endeavoured  to  defend  themselves  by  the  wild 
expedient  of  firing  the  city ;  and  it  was  with  the 
utmost  difficulty  that  the  consul  Pedius,  who  was 
present  in  all  quarters  successively  during  this  night  of 
terrible  confusion,  succeeded  in  preventing  a  general 
conflagration.  In  order  to  pacify  the  fears  of  several 
of  those  whose  terror  had  nearly  been  productive 
of  such  disastrous  consequences  to  their  fellow - 
.citizens,  he,  on  the  ensuing  morning,  published  the 
seventeen  names  he  had  received  from  the  trium- 
virs, with  the  open  assurance  that  nothing  was 
to  be  dreaded  by  any  not  comprised  in  this  first 
revealed  evidence  of  the  ferocious  intentions  of  the 
victorious  leaders.  Pedius  did  not  live  to  see  the 
declaration,  which  he  perhaps  believed  to  be  correct, 
verified;  his  own  death  taking  place  before  sunset 
on  the  same  day,  in  consequence,  as  it  was  generally 
supposed,  of  the  effect  produced  by  the  exertions  and 
alarm  of  the  preceding  night  upon  a  constitution 
already  probably  impaired  by  age  or  previous  disease. 
The  hopes  inspired  by  his  assertion  of  the  limited 
character  of  the  vengeance  of  Antony  and  his  col- 
leagues were  soon  frustrated  by  the  arrival  of  the 
triumvirs,  who  having  gloomily  entered  Rome  in 
succession,  and  crowded  all  the  public  edifices  with 
the  arms  and  standards  of  their  soldiers,  lost  no  time 


X 

i 


A 


i 
1 


TflE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 


5U 


in  exposing  to  general  view,  with  a  preamble  full  of 
moderation,  and  excuses  under  the  plea  of  urgent 
necessity,  the  long  catalogue  of  the  condemned,  which 
they  had  conjointly  made  out  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Rhenus*,  in  which  melancholy  list  the  names  of 
Marcus  Cicero,  his  son,  brother,  and  nephew,  stood 
foremost.  The  scenes  which  ensued  have  been  de- 
picted with  frightful  fidelity  by  the  pen  of  Appian. 
Of  all  the  situations  of  terror  to  which  human  beings 
could  be  exposed,  none,  in  the  amount  of  suffering 
inflicted,  could  possibly  exceed  this,  in  which  a  man  s 
own  dependants  and  household  were  armed  against 
him  by  the  hope  of  enormous  rewards t,  and  the 
dearest  objects  of  his  affection  viewed,  in  consequence 
of  the  natural  instinct  of  self-preservation,  with  a 
distrust  which,  to  the  disgrace  of  human  nature, 
proved  too  often  well  founded.  Masters  were  seen 
prostrate  at  the  feet  of  their  slaves,  on  whose  slightest 
word  their  lives  now  depended,  entreating  compassion 
and  connivance  at  their  escape,  but  uncomforted  by 
any  assurances,  which,  to  be  efficacious,  required  an 
incorruptible  fidelity  on  the  part  of  multitudes. 
In  every  part  of  Italy  exiles  of  the  highest  rank  were 
flying,  in  mean  disguises,  to  what  they  imagined  the 
most  obscure  places  of  concealment,  from  which 
numbers  were  every  day  dragged,  and  brutally  mas- 
sacred, often  before  the  eyes  of  theu*  families  who 
had  accompanied  them  in  their  retreat.  All  the 
appalling  pictures,  in  short,  of  horror,  anguish,  de- 
spair,  and  unrelenting    cruelty,  which  had  distin- 

*  The  first  part  of  the  Bill  of  Proscription  is  given  at  length  by 
Appian,  De  Bellis  Civ.  iv. 

t  Twenty.five  thousand  Attic  drachmas-  were  promised  for  the 
head  of  any  person  prosci-ijbed,  if  the  assassin  was  a  freeman,  tea 
thousand  drachmas  and  liberty,  if  a  slave.  The  Attic  drachma 
nearly  corresponds  in  value  with  the  Latin  denarius,  which  word  it 
is  frequently  used  to  translate  by  the  Greek  historians,  being  worth 
about  S\d. 

M  m2 


532  THE    LIFE    OP   CICERO. 

guished  former  proscriptions,  were  again  exhibited 
in  this,  with  the  addition  of  new  circumstances  of 
terror,  in  consequence  of  the  enlarged  scale  on  which 
the  murders  authorised  by  it  were  carried  on ;  while, 
like  those  by  which  it  had  been  preceded,  it  was,  at 
the  same  time,  not  unrelieved  by  instances  of  the  most 
heroic  fidelity  and  devotion. 

Cicero  and  his  brother  Quintus  are  recorded  to 
have  been  at  the  Tusculan  villa  of  the  former,  when 
information  was  brought  of  the  late  proceedings  of 
the  triumvirate,  and  of  the  imminent  peril  to  whfch 
the  lives  of  both  were  exposed.    Their  first  resolution 
was  to  take  flight  immediately  to   Astura,   where 
they  expected  to  find  a  vessel  in  which  they  might 
be  conveyed  to  Epirus,  and  placed  under  protection 
of  the  army  of  Marcus  Brutus.     They  accordingly 
set  out  on  their  mournful  journey,  the  last  look  of 
the  orator  being  now  cast  upon  that  delightful  retreat, 
adorned  by  the  profuse  beauties  of  nature,  and  rich 
with  the  divine  treasures  of  art,  in  which,  encom- 
passed by  all  the  external  circumstances  which  could 
render  existence  desirable,  he  had  spent  so  many  days 
of  tranquil  converse  with  friends  worthy  of  his  inti- 
macy— so   many  'nights   devoted   to   the   seductive 
speculations  of  his  beloved  philosophy.  The  brothers, 
as  we  are  told  by  Plutarch,  were  conveyed  in  separate 
litters,  and  had  frequent  conferences  on  the  way,  the 
result  of  which  was  a  determination  on  the  pari  of 
Quintus,  who  was  wholly  unprovided  with  the  neces- 
sary funds  for  his  voyage,  and  found  Cicero  himself 
equally  destitute,  to  return  towards  Rome,  and  endea- 
vour to  procure  a  sufficient  sum  to  defray  the  expenses 
of  his  passage  to  Greece.     He  therefore  ordered  his 
attendants  to  turn  back,  aftei   a  parting  with  his 
brother  replete  with  anguish  to  both,  in  consequence 
of  a  presentiment,  amply  justified  by  present  circum- 
stances, that  they  were  never  destined  to  meet  again. 


I 


\ 


h 


\ 


■  -it 


J 


/ 


1 


tHE   LIFE  OP   CICERO.  f  3^ 

A  few  days  afterwards,  the  house  in  which  Quintus 
had  taken  refuge,  and  where  he  had  been  joined  by 
his  son,  was  surrounded  by  the  relentless  instruments 
of  the  triumvurate.     The  young  man  was  instantly 
seized,  but  the  place  of  his  father  s  concealment  long 
escaped  the  most  diligent  search  of  the  assassins. 
They  therefore  proposed  putting  their  captive  to  "the 
question,"  in  order  to  extort  from  him  the  requisite 
information.     But  in  the  closing  scene  of  his  life  the 
younger  Quintus  displayed  a  constancy  and  affection 
which  could  not  altogether  have  been  expected  from 
the  character  drawn  of  him  in  the  letters  of  his  uncle. 
Amidst  the  agony  of  the  severest  tortures  which  the 
ingenuity  of  his  captors  could  devise,  he  persisted 
with  undiminished  resolution  in  refusing  to  reveal 
the  secret  upon  which  the  life  of  his  parent  depended, 
until  the  latter,  who  was  within  hearing  of  the  groans 
of  the  sufferer,  being  unable  any  longer  to  endure  the 
trial  to  which  his  feelings  were  subjected,  suddenly 
rushed  from  his  concealment,  and  presented  himself 
before  the  executioners.*    A  fresh  contest  of  affection 
then  arose  between  the  father  and  son,   as  to  which 
should  be  spared  the  additional  pang  inflicted  by  the 
sight  of  the  death  of  the  other,  and  this  dispute  con- 
tinued until  cut  short  by  the  soldiery,  who,  impatient 
for  the  expected  reward,  consented  to  behead  them 
apart  and  at   the   same   moment.      Thus   perished 
Quintus  Cicero,  an  individual  of  no  inconsiderable 
repute  in  the  literary  history  of  his  times,  and  whosd 
extant  treatise  "  Respecting  the  Canvass  for  the  Con- 
sulate," shows  him  to  have  been  far  from  disgracing 
the  name  he  bore  by  any  deficiency  in  intellectual 
attainments,   but  whose   principal   fame  is   derived 
from  the  lustre  shed  upon  his  memory  through  the 
medium  of  the  immortal  works  of  his  brother. 

In  the  mean  time  Marcus  Cicero  had  been  con- 
veyed by  his  attendants  to  Astura,  where,  finding  a 

*  Dio  Cassius^  xlvii. 


584  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO; 

ship  ready  to  set  sail,  and  receiving  no  tidings  Of 
Quintus,  he  at  length  embarked,  and  coasted  along 
the  Latian  shore  with  a  favourable  wind  as  far  as 
Circaeum.  At  this  place,  although  the  mariners 
professed  their  willingness  to  stand  out  to  sea  imme- 
diately, a  step  which  in  all  probability  would  have 
saved  his  life,  he  resolved  to  land,  and,  his  request  to 
that  effect  having  been  complied  with,  was  conveyed 
some  distance  in  the  direction  of  Rome.  By  what- 
ever cause  this  change  of  resolution  was  produced, 
whether  by  his  distaste  for  navigation,  or  some  faint 
hope  of  being  yet  protected  by  Caesar,  it  was  quickly 
changed  for  the  feeling  of  despair  which,  during  this 
brief  journey,  seems  to  have  sunk  with  permanent 
and  settled  darkness  upon  his  mind.  After  proceed- 
ing about  a  hundred  furlongs,  therefore,  he  desired 
his  servants  to  return  towards  Circaeum,  where 
he  passed  a  dreadful  night  of  misery  and  distrac- 
tion ;  revolving,  among  other  frenzied  resolutions  of 
revenge  against  the  false  friend  by  whom  he  had  been 
deceived  and  betrayed,  a  plan  of  again  setting  out  for 
Rome  and  stabbing  himself  upon  the  hearth  of 
Octavius,  and  in  the  presence  of  his  household  gods, 
with  the  view  of  bringing  down  an  awful  and  certain 
retribution  upon  the  head  of  the  cold-hearted  assenter 
to  his  murder.  As  day  dawned,  on  the  morning 
following  this  feverish  interval  of  mental  agony,  he 
desired  the  crew  of  the  vessel  which  had  borne  him 
to  Circaeum  to  make  for  Caieta,  and  set  him  on  shore 
near  his  villas  situated  upon  the  coast.  Such  a 
step  amounted  to  little  less  than  virtual  suicide ; 
since,  on  the  first  intimation  of  his  proscription, 
numbers  of  eager  expectants  of  the  rich  reward 
promised  by  Antony  for  his  head  had  started  from 
Rome  to  beset  his  best  known  places  of  resort,  and. 
the  winding  shores  of  Baiae,  as  well  as  the  vine- 
covered  hills  of  Formiae,  were  already  echoing  to  the 
trumpets  of  the  soldiery  of  the  triumvirate,  in  keeix 


I 

( 
{ 


THE   LIFE  OP   CICERO. 


535 


4 


t 


quest  of  the  valuable  prize  which  might  be   con- 
cealed in  the  neighbourhood.     A  short  sail  brought 
him  to  his  place  of  destination,  from  which,  accord- 
ing both  to  Appiau*  and  to  Plutarch,  whose  super- 
stitious credulity  at  least  generally  shows  itself  in 
such   a  manner  as  greatly  to  heighten  the  effect  of 
his  picturesque   narrations,  he   was   warned   by   a 
singular  omen.     The   story  is   of  so   marvellous  a 
character  as  to  render  it  the  more  prudent  course  to 
allow  the  biographer  to  tell  it  in  hi.s  own  words. 
"There  was  a  temple  of  Apollo,"  he  relates,  "on 
that  coast,  from  which  a  fliglit  of  crows  came  with 
great  noise  towards  Cicero's  vessel  as  it  was  making 
land.     They  perched   on  both   sides   the   sailyard, 
where   some   sat  croaking  and  others  pecking  the 
ends  of  the  ropes.     All  looked  upon  this  as  an  ill 
omen,  yet  Cicero  went   on  shore,  and,  entering  his 
house,  sat  down  to  repose  himself.     In  the   mean 
time  a  number  of  the  crows  settled  in  the  chamber 
window,  and  croaked  in  the  most  doleful  manner. 
One  of  them  even  entered  in,  and  alighting  on  his 
bed,  attempted  with  its  beak  to  draw  off  the  clothes 
with  which  he  had  covered  his  face.     On  sight  of 
this,   the   servants   began   to  reproach   themselves. 
Shall  we,  said  they,  remain  to  be  spectators  of  our 
master's   murder?     Shall  we   not   protect   him,  so 
innocent,  and  so  great  a  sufferer  as  he  is,  when  the 
brute  creatures  give  him  marks  of  care  and  attention  ? 
Then,  partly  by  entreaty,  and  partly  by  force,  they 
got  him  into  his  litter  and  carried  him  towards  the 

seat."  ,.  .  .  1 

Thus  far  Plutarch.     Without  solicitmg  credence, 

however,  for  any  of  the  supernatural  features  of  his 
narration,  there  does  not  appear  any  reason  for  dis- 
trusting the  account  given  of  the  remaining  part  of 
the  tragedy  by  the  same  narrator  ;   in  which  he  is 

♦  De  Bellis  Civil,  iv. 
,  t  Plutarch's  Ufp  pf  Cicpro,  J^anghorne'g  t^a^8lation, 


536  THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO. 

more  or  less  corroborated  by  the  testimony  of  other 
writers.  The  servants  of  Cicero,  whose  real  ground 
of  alarm  was,  no  doubt,  the  intelligence  of  the  vicinity 
of  a  party  of  the  military,  had  no  sooner  quitted  it, 
making  their  way  in  all  haste  to  the  sea-shore,  when 
the  agents  of  Antony  arrived,  headed  by  Herennius, 
a  centurion,  and  the  tribune  Popilius  L»nas,  whom 
Cicero  is  related  to  have  formerly  defended  from  a 
charge  of  parricide ;  and  bursting  open  the  doors  of 
the  house  which  had  been  barricaded  against  them, 
to  the  best  of  their  ability,  by  the  domestics  within, 
imperiously  demanded  in  what  direction  the  fugitives 
had  retreated.  The  necessary  information  having  been 
procured  from  a  slave  named  Philologus,  if  Plutarch 
is  correct,  or  if  Appian  is  in  preference  to  be  believed, 
from  a  former  retainer  of  Clodius,  who  now  gratified 
a  long  cb^ished  hatred  towards  the  orator  by 
eagerly  pointing  out  the  path  by  which  he  bad  beeo 
conveyed  from  the  villa,  they  lost  not  a  moment  in 
commencing  the  pursuit,  and  w^re  not  long  in  dis*- 
covering  the  retinue  of  their  victim ;  who  were  at  the 
time  passing  down  a  retired  avenue  which  led  through 
a  close  and  tangled  wood  to  the  beach.  The  approach 
of  the  assassins  was  not  unnoticed  by  Cicero,  who, 
commanding  his  servants  to  set  down  his  litter,  and 
to  refrain  from  the  useless  resistance  which  they 
seemed  inclined  to  offer,  prepared  with  firmness  and 
dignity  to  meet  the  fate  which  he  plainly  perceived 
to  be  unavoidable.  When  Popilius  and  his  band 
approached  the  spot,  he  regarded  them  for  some  time 
with  a  fixed  and  melancholy  look,  placing  his  left 
hand  upon  his  chin,  his  usual  attitude  when  engaged 
in  deep  thought.  His  features,  haggard  with  care 
and  anxiety,  his  disordered  hair  and  dress,  united 
with  the  patient  fortitude  veith  which  he  appeared 
ready  to  encounter  the  death  they  were  commissioned 
to  inflict,  and,  probably,  the  contrast  which  his 
present  appearance  presented  to  the  circumstances 


I 


I 


THE  LIFE   OF  CICERO. 


637 


f 


of  outward  pomp  and  splendour  under  which  they 
had  last  beheld  him,  produced  at  the  moment  so 
powerful  a  feeling  of  commiseration  among  his 
assassins,  as  to  induce  them  to  turn  aside  their  faces, 
while  Popilius,  the  only  one  unmoved  among  the 
company,  after  Cicero  had  calmly  stretched  forth  his 
head  and  neck  from  the  litter  and  commanded  him 
to  perform  his  office,  unrelentingly  inflicted  the  fatal 
stroke*.  His  hands  were  then  cut  off  by  Herennius, 
and,  together  with  his  head,  exultingly  conveyed  by 
the  principal  agent  in  his  death  to  Antony,  while  his 
attendants  interred  his  body  in  a  grave  hastily  dug 
upon  the  spott.     Popilius,  on  reaching  Rome,  found 

*  Appian,  as  a  circumstance  of  additional  horror,  in  his  narrative 
of  the  transaction  asserts  that  his  head  was  rather  sawn  than  struck 
off  by  the  unskilfulness  of  the  executioner :— "  rpls  ivivKiiaawP 
Koi  iKdiairpl^oov  virb  aireiplasr—De  Bellis  Civilibus,  iii. 

t  The  following  remarks  are  made  by  Eustace  with  respect  to  the 
tomb  still  indicated  by  tradition  as  that  of  Cicero,  and  on  the  sup- 
posed  scene  of  his  death  : —  _ 

"But  neither  the  mausoleum  of  Plancu8,northe  towers  of  Gaieta^ 
neither  the  wondrous  tales  of  Homer,  nor  the  majestic  vei-ses  of 
Virgil,  shed  so  much  glory  and  interest  on  these  coasts  as  the 
Formian  villa  and  tomb  of  Cicero.     That  Cicero  had  a  villa  here, 
and  that  it  lay  about  a  mile  from  the  shore,  history  informs  us,  and 
at  that  very  distance  on  the  left  of  the  road,  the  attentive  traveller 
will  observe  the  i-emains  of  ancient  walls,  scattered  over  the  fields 
and  half  covered  with  vines,  olives,  and  hedges.     These  shapeless 
heaps  tradition  points  out  as  the  ruins  of  Cicero's  Formian  villa. 
Again,  history  assures  us  that  he  was  overtaken  and  beheaded  m  the 
walks  of  a  grove  that  lay  between  his  villa  and  the  sea.     On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  road,  rises,  stripped  of  its  decorations,  and  indeed 
of  its  very  shape,  a  sort  of  obelisk  in  two  stories,  and  this  disfigured 
pile  the  same  tradition  reveres  as  his  mausoleum,  raised   on  the 
very  spot  where  he  was  butchered,  and  where  his  faithful  attendants 
immediately  interred  his  headless  trunk.     Lower  down  and  nearer 
the  sea,  or  rather  hanging  over  its  waves,  are  several  vaults  and 
galleries,  which  are  supposed  to  have  been  part  of  the  Villa  Inferior, 
as  that  which  I  have  described  above  was  called  Villa  Superior.     It 
is  a  pity  that  excavations  are  not  made,  (and  with  what  success 
might  they  not  be  made  all  along  this  interesting  coast !)  to  give 
curiosity  some  chance  of  acquiring  greater  evidence.  ,  Of  the  fate 


538  THE   LIFE  OP   CICERO. 

Antony  seated  in  state  upon  the  tribunal  in  the 
Forum,  and  being  unable  to  approach  him,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  dense  multitude  by  which  he  was 
surrounded,  intimated  the  performance  of  his  mis- 
sion by  shaking  aloft  the  gory  relics  of  which  he 
was  the  bearer,  in  full  view  of  his  employer; 
who  is  said  to  have  received  them  with  inhuman 
satisfaction,  and,  after  rewarding  Popilius  with  an 
honorary  crown,  in  addition  to  an  almost  incredibly 
extravagant  sum  in  money,  to  have  ordered  them  to 
be  conveyed  to  his  house,  where  he  further  feasted 
his  long-cherished  hatred,  by  contemplating  them  at 
his  leisure  while  reclininor  amidst  his  friends  at  his 
table.  They  were  afterwards  carried  to  Fulvia,  and 
that  monstrous  anomaly  in  the  history  of  her  sex, 

of  Cicero's  remains  we  know  nothing,  as  history  is  silent  with 
regard  to  his  obsequies  and  sepulture.  It  does  not  seem  probable 
that  during  Antony's  life  the  most  zealous  friend  would  have  dared 
to  erect  a  monument  to  the  memory  of  his  most  active  and  deadly 
enemy,  and  after  that  triumvir's  death,  Augustus  seems  to  have 
concealed  his  sentiments,  if  favourable  to  Cicero,  with  so  much 
care  and  success,  that  his  very  nephews  did  not  venture  to  read 
that  illustrious  Roman's  works  in  his  presence.  Before  the  death 
of  Augustus  the  personal  and  affectionate  interest  inspired  by 
affinity  or  friendship  had  probably  subsided,  and  few  survived  the 
emperor  who  could  possibly  have  enjoyed  the  happiness  of  an 
intimate  and  familiar  acquaintance  with  Cicero ;  fewer  still  could 
have  had  any  particular  and  urgent  motive  to  step  forward  from  the 
crowd  and  pay  the  long  neglected  honours  to  his  memory.  But 
notwithstanding  these  reasons,  and  the  silence  of  history  upon  the 
subject,  yet,  as  his  son  escaped  the  proscription,  and,  when  the  rage 
of  civil  war  had  given  way  to  the  tranquil  domination  of  Augustus, 
was  restored  to  his  country  and  to  his  rank,  it  is  possible  he  may 
have  raised  a  monument  to  the  memory  of  a  father  so  affectionate  to 
him  and  so  illustrious  in  the  eyes  of  the  public.  As  long,  there- 
fore, as  popular  belief  or  tradition,  however  uncertain,  attaches  the 
name  of  Cicero  to  these  ruins,  and  as  long  as  ever  credulity  can 
believe  that  the  one  has  been  his  residence  and  the  other  his  tomb,, 
so  long  will  every  traveller  who  values  liberty  and  reveres  genius, 
visit  them  with  interest  and  hang  over  them,  though  nearly  reduced 
to  a  heap  of  rubbi8h>  with  delight," — Classical  Tour,ii.  28, 


\ 


THE   LIFE   OF   CICERO*  539 

with  a  vindictive  malice  unsatisfied  by  the  death  of 
the  illustrious  statesman  in  whom  both  her  former 
and  present  husband  had  found  so  inflexible  an  op- 
ponent, is  recorded,  after  having  forced  open  the 
lifeless  jaws,  to  have  drawn  forth  and  repeatedly 
pierced  the  tongue  with  a  bodkin  which  she  took 
from  her  hair,  accompanying  the  action  with  bitter 
and  unseemly  insults  and  reproaches  *.  The  man- 
gled remains  of  the  orator  were  then  returned  to 
Antony,  who,  commanded  them  to  be  exposed  upon 
the  rostra,  from  which  his  eloquence  had  so  often 
delighted  the  gathered  population  of  Rome,  beside  a 
statue  of  Popilius,  surmounted  with  an  insciiption 
in  which  the  murderer  boldly  avowed  his  late  deed, 
and  boasted  of  its  perpetration t.  According  to  the 
best  authority,  that  of  his  freedman  Tiro,  the  death 
of  Cicero  took  place  on  the  seventh  of  the  ides  of 
December  J ;  when  he  wanted,  by  the  computation  of 
the  Roman  calendar,  but  twenty- seven  days  of  com- 
pleting his  sixty-fourth  year.  He  left  but  a  single 
representative  of  his  name,  his  son  Marcus;  who  was 
afterwards  so  much  in  favour  with  Augustus  Caesar, 
as  to  be  associated  with  him  in  the  consulship.  At 
a  later  period,  and  when  the  reminiscences  of  the 
campaign  of  Actium  had  supervened  to  modify  his 
former  opinion  of  the  Philippics,  that  emperor  is  said 
to  have  done  justice  to  the  patriot  whom,  in  his 
youth,  he  had  abandoned  to  the  vengeance  of  Antony; 
since,  on  a  certain  occasion,  finding  one  of  his  grand- 
sons reading  a  treatise  of  Cicero,  which,  on  being 
discovered,  he  endeavoured  to  conceal  under  his 
gown,  he  returned  it  after  he  had  taken  it  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  youthful  student,  and  perused  almost 
the  whole  of  it  as  he  stood,  with  the  observation ^ 
"  My  child,  this  was  an  eloquent  man,  and  a  true 
lover  of  his  country  §.*' 

•  Dio,  xlvii.  t  Tbid. 

J  December  the  7th,     See  Fasti  Hellenici.         §  Plutarch  in  Cic 


540  THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO.' 

Such,  in  general  terms,  and  in  reference  to  hid 
more  public  life,  after  all  deductions  have  been  made 
on  the  score  of  his  weakness,  his  irresolution,  and 
his  occasional  duplicity,  is  the  character  which  must 
be  assigned,  upon  an  attentive  study  of  his  conduct, 
to  this  distinguished  individual ;  whose  name  is  one 
of  the  household  words  of  history,  and  whose  genius, 
notwithstanding  the  vast  change  which  has  passed 
over  literature  since  the  period  in  which  he  flourished, 
may  be  considered  as  naturalised  in  every  part  of  the 
civilised  earth.  That  he  was  from  his  earliest  youth 
attached  to  what  appeared  to  him  the  cause  of  free- 
dom, and  that  his  whole  policy,  when  invested  with 
the  powers  of  ofi&ce,  tended  to  support  it,  admits  of 
little  doubt  in  the  mind  of  any  one  acquainted  with 
his  eventful  career.  It  was  for  this  purpose  that  he 
endeavoured,  during  his  consulate,  to  unite  the  sena- 
torian  and  equestrian  orders  into  a  powerful  barrier 
against  the  encroachments  of  the  popular  faction, 
in  which  with  prophetic  sagacity  he  saw,  as  the 
result  of  a  natural  reaction,  the  establishment  of  the 
monstrous  despotism,  in  which  the  sun  of  the  republic 
was  destined  to  set.  It  was  with  this  view  also  that, 
while  almost  the  whole  of  his  order  were  furiously 
rushing  into  a  war  with  Caesar,  he  protested,  con- 
trary to  the  opinion  of  the  party  with  which  he  was 
united,  against  their  disastrous  resolution;  justly 
apprehending  the  same  fatal  consequences  to  the 
republic,  on  the  banners  of  whichever  side  Victory 
might  ultimately  alight.  To  what  extent  he  was 
prepared  on  every  occasion  to  sacrifice  his  safety, 
reputation,  or  property,  in  the  support  of  his  prin- 
ciples, is  another  question.  Yet,  the  suppression  of 
the  conspiracy  of  Catiline  was  a  task  which  required 
at  least  as  much  boldness  and  self-devotion  as  policy ; 
and  in  his  subsequent  attempts  to  arrest  the  Caesarian 
faction  with  their  leader  Antony,  in  which  we  find 
him  organising  and  directing  the  whole  resources  of 


I 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO.  541 

the  empire  against  the  enemy-  of  reviving  liberty,  a 
spirit  of  noble  and  heroic  resolution  blazes  forth, 
which  is  worthy  of  comparison  with  the  most 
striking  instances  of  magnanimity  recorded  in  the 
annals  of  Rome.  In  his  policy  at  this  crisis  he  was 
well  aware  that  failure  implied  nothing  less  than 
total  ruin  and  destruction  to  himself;  yet  we  do  not 
find  that,  in  casting  the  die  upon  which  his  destiny 
depended,  his  hand  for  a  moment  trembled ;  or  that, 
having  once  taken  the  step  by  which  he  was  tho- 
roughly aware  that  his  life  was  staked  in  connexion 
with  the  independence  of  his  country,  he  felt  the 
least  inclination  to  recal  it,  although  he  might,  at 
times,  have  deeply  desponded  of  its  favourable 
issue. 

The  inordinate  vanity,  which  formed  the  pre- 
dominant defect  in  his  disposition,  may,  undoubtedly, 
be  considered  as  having  been  at  times  a  serviceable 
ally,  in  enabling  him  to  act  with  promptitude  and 
firmness;  when,  but  for  this  support,  his  .patriotism 
would  perhaps  have  been  efi*ectually  disarmed  by  his 
constitutional  timidity,  and  his  constancy  subdued 
into  inaction  by  the  voice  of  that  self-preservation  to 
which  he  was,  for  the  most  part,  too  much  inclined 
to  listen.  While  the  eyes  of  his  countiymen  were 
fixed  upon  him,  and  their  applauses  ringing  in  his 
ears ;  while,  as  in  the  case  of  the  revolution  threat- 
ened by  Catiline,  he  was  called  to  the  chief  post  of 
honour,  as  well  as  of  peril ;  or  as,  when  encountering 
a  foe  much  more  terrible  than  Catiline,  he  was  ac- 
knowledged and  flattered  as  the  leading  spirit  of  his 
party;  entrusted  to  correspond  with  the  leaders 
of  armies  stationed  in  the  distant  provinces,  and 
addressed  by  them  in  return,  as  the  principal  repre- 
sentative of  the  insulted  majesty  of  the  constitution, 
his  courage  was  found  not  unequal  to  the  task,  which 
his  regard  for  the  interests  of  his  country  might,  in 


I 


542 


THE    LIFE   OP    CICERO. 


tHE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


543 


the  first  instance,  have  induced  him  to  undertake.  In 
the  prospect  of  a  triumph  he  was  not  unwilling  to 
expose  himself  to  peril  on  the  heights  of  Amanus, 
and,  with  the  same  glittering  reward  as  a  lure,  he 
would  probably  have  stood  his  ground  against  the 
shafts  of  the  Parthians,  had  fortune  thrown  him  in 
the  way  of  their  invading  host.  But  when  called 
upon  to  descend  from  this  proud  pre-eminence,  and 
to  exchange  the  character  of  a  principal  for  that  of 
an  ally;  when,  as  in  the  instance  of  the  fierce  struggle 
between  Pompey  and  Caesar  for  supremacy,  he  was 
able  to  add  but  little  to  the  actual  strength  of  either 
party,  and  was  likely  to  be  rewarded  with  applause 
in  proportion ;  his  inherent  weakness,  overcome  for 
a  short  time  by  the  powerful  stimulant  of  received 
or  expected  approbation,  again  returned,  and  his 
conduct  was  marked  by  all  the  shades  of  vacillation 
and  timidity— too  often  by  those  of  then:  natural 
consequences,  insincerity  and  actual  deceit. 

If  we  pursue  the  investigation  of  his  character 
from  public  into  private  life,  we  shall  find  it — as,  to 
a  certain  extent,  those  of  the  best,  whose  histories 
have  been  faithfully  recorded,  even  while  under  the 
influence  of  holier  inducements  and  the  guidance  of 
a  diviner  light, — a  mixture  of  merits  and  defects ; — a 
"mingled  yarn " of  various  and  contradictory  hues. 
As  a  father,  his  conduct  towards  his  children  was 
unimpeachable;  towards  his  dependants  there  is 
every  reason  for  believing  that  his  demeanour  was 
distinguished  for  afi^bility,  kindness,  and  benevo- 
lence ;  the  evidence  in  favour  of  his  disinterestedness 
during  his  foreign  magistracy  is  unexceptionable  ; 
but  whether  in  his  relations  as  a  husband  he  was 
more  deserving  of  blame  or  sympathy,  cannot  accu- 
rately be  determined.  In  such  differences  as  arose 
between  himself  and  his  brother,  or  nephew,  he  ap- 
pears to  have  resembled  the  aggrieved  far  more  than 


the  offending  party.  His  friendship  with  Atticua 
was  uninterrupted  to  the  last ;  and  his  correspondence 
proves  that  he  was  on  terms  of  familiar  intimacy  with 
the  most  esteemed  and  exalted  of  his  own  age.  His 
ready  patronage  of  genius  has  been  commemorated 
by  the  grateful  strains  of  Catullus  ;  who  may  easily 
be  imagined  to  have  been  by  no  means  a  solitary 
object  of  his  generosity.  His  hospitality  is  also  de- 
scribed as  exercised  upon  the  most  liberal  scale ;  and 
his  doors  are  said  to  have  been  thrown  freely  open  to 
men  of  letters,  no  distinction  being  made  between 
foreigners  and  his  own  countrymen ;  so  that  his  villas 
frequently  resembled  the  schools  of  philosophy  at 
Athens,  from  the  number  and  celebrity  of  the  guests 
by  whom  they  were  crowded.  His  propensity  to 
flatter  the  powerful,  his  undisguised  avidity  for  the 
applause  of  those  about  him,  his  disregard  of  truth 
to  obtain  it,  with  one  or  two  instances  of  what 
strangely  resembles  actual  dishonesty,  which,  though 
unnoticed  by  Middleton,  have  not  escaped  the  glance 
of  less  prejudiced  observers,  must  be  mentioned  as 
the  principal  defects  in  this  otherwise  not  unfavour- 
able picture. 

With  his  excellences  or  his  deficiencies,  his  vir- 
tues or  failings,  posterity  would,  at  the  present  time, 
be  little  concerned,  were  it  not  in  the  exercise  of  that 
curiosity  by  which  nothing  connected  with  the  career 
of  genius  is  considered  trivial  or  uninteresting.  It  is  to 
his  singular  mental  acquirements  alone,  that  his  name 
owes  the  proud  distinction  it  has  for  ages  obtained  ; 
and  in  consequence  of  which  the  minutest  accidents 
in  his  life  have  been  long  considered  fit  subjects  of 
the  investigation  of  the  most  accomplished  erudition. 
In  pronouncing,  however,  upon  the  exact  nature  of 
his  talents,  an  impartial  judge  would,  no  doubt, 
decide  them  to  have  been  rather  of  the  imitative  than 
of  the  inventive  cast ;  more  capable  of  clothing  the 


r 


544 


THE   LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


thoughts  of  others  in  appropriate  language,  than  of 
giving  birth  to  fresh  and  original  conceptions,  by  any 
innate  powers  of  their  own.  In  this  respect,  indeed, 
his  philosophical  works  rather  resemble  a  highly- 
cultivated  and  well-ordered  garden,  glowing  with 
Dumberless  exotics,  and  breathing  the  fragrance  of 
distant  lands,  than  the  free  and  interminable  expanse 
of  hill  and  vale,  replete  with  the  untransferred  muni- 
ficence of  nature,  and  giving  testimony  of  its  vigorous 
fertility  by  a  produce  of  wild  and  luxurious  growth. 
His  imagination  is  not  like  that  of  Plato,  struggling 
every  moment  with  the  self-imposed  shackles  of 
logical  restraint,  and  eager  to  soar  into  the  regions  of 
the  sublimest  speculation,  but  at  all  times  subservient 
to  the  rein  of  reason  ;  and  his  powers  of  ethical  dis- 
quisition seem  to  turn  more  readily  to  the  task  of 
reducing  to  practice  principles  already  recognised, 
than  of  searching  in  the  dark  recesses  of  moral  truth 
for  springs  of  action  hitherto  unknown,  or  of  tracing 
"to  their  origin  those  of  uncertain  nature  or  of  latent 
source.  Much  of  this  may,  indeed,  be  traced  to  the 
prevailing  character  which  distinguished  the  litera- 
ture common  in  his  age.  Almost  all  that  human 
ingenuity  could  invent,  in  the  way  of  hypothesis 
with  respect  to  moral  phaenomena,  had  long  been 
presented  in  the  several  schools  devoted  to  their  study; 
and  at  this  time  the  intellect  of  mankind  seems  to 
have  been  rather  inclined  to  repose  upon  what  had 
been  already  accomplished,  than  to  enter  upon  any 
course  of  untried  enquiry.  Like  all  subjects,  more- 
over, (w^ith  but  a  single  reservation,  standing  in  no 
Beed  of  being  specified,)  which  have  fixed  in  their 
turns  the  attention  of  the  human  mind,  the  beautiful 
science  of  ethics,  so  long  predominant  in  the  estima- 
tion of  antiquity,  had  at  this  time  begun  to  show 
symptoms  of  following  the  common  law  of  mutability 
and  decay.     The  light  in  which,  during  its  increase. 


»>  i 


r 


THE    LIFE   OF   CICERO.  545 

the  powers  of  Solon  and  Socrates  had  delighted  to 
bask,  was  gleaming  with  a  setting  radiance ;  the 
groves  of  the  Academy  already  displayed  the  "  sere 
and  yellow  leaf;"  and  Philosophy,  with  much  of  the 
practical  wisdom,  had  also  assumed  somewhat  ofihe 
infirmities  of  age — its  sobriety  and  cautiousness — its 
diminished  energy — its  less  certain  aspect,  and  irre- 
solute step. 

In  passing  from  the  more  serious  to  the  lighter 
productions  of  Cicero,  and  devoting  our  attention  to 
his  familiar  correspondence,  the  singular  versatility 
of  his  talents,  and  the  extensive  range  of  his  acquire- 
ments, are  no  less  easily  discoverable.  Learning,  in 
its  most  graceful  and  least  ceremonious  guise — wit 
which  sparkles  with  unwearied  brilliancy — and  an 
elegance  of  expression  widely  remote  from  the  florid 
aiFectation  prevalent  at  a  later  period,  leave  but  little 
to  be  desired  in  these  models,  no  less  of  the  Latin 
tongue,  than  of  the  epistolary  style  in  general. 
Viewed  as  transcripts  of  the  writer  s  feelings  and 
opinions,  and  as  fixing  and  perpetuating  many  of 
those  more  minute  shades  of  character  *,  which  the 
historian  is  no  more  capable  of  exhibiting  in  his 
general  narrative,  than  the  artist  of  transferring  to 
his  canvass  the  flying  lights  and  shadows  which 
traverse  the  landscape  he  attempts  to  delineate,  they 
can  scarcely  be  too  highly  valued.     As   authentic 

*  Voltaire's  opinion  upon  the  letters  of  Cicero,  is  thus  ex- 
pressed : — "  II  semble  que  pour  bien  juger  les  hommes  publics,  on 
pourrait  s'en  rapporter  aux  monumens  secrets  et  non  suspects  qui 
restent  d'eux,  comme  les  lettres  dans  lesquelles  ils  ouvrent  leur 
coeur  a  leurs  amis,  mais  c'est  dans  les  lettres  de  Ciceron  que  see 
admirateurs  et  ses  d^tracteurs  trouvent  egalement  les  preuves  de 
leurs  ^loges  et  de  leurs  censures.  Tout  cela  prouve  combien  il  est 
diflBcile  et  peut-6tre  inutile  de  cbercher  la  v^rit^  dans  les  details  de 
rhistoire.*'  Notwithstanding  the  point  of  this  observation,  it  must 
be  considered  but  as  one  among  the  many  instances  of  undue  attach- 
ment to  brilliant  paradox,  for  which  all  the  writings  of  Voltaire  are 
remarkable. 

N  N 


546 


THE    LIFE    OP    CICERO. 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO. 


547 


evidence  with  respect  to  the  events  of  a  most  mo- 
mentous era,  they  rise  into  still  greater  importance. 
Nearly  nine  hundred  letters,  by  far  the  greater  por- 
tion from  the  pen  of  the  orator  himself,  but  among 
which  are  to  be  found  original  communications  from 
Caesar,  Pompey,  Antony,  Brutus,  Cassius,  Trebonius, 
Sulpicius,  Pollio,  and  many  other  master  spirits  of 
their  generation,  constitute  a  series  of  trustworthy 
documents,  to  which  no  other  period  of  ancient  his- 
tory, and  few  in  that  of  modem  nations,  can  furnish 
a  parallel.  By  means  of  these  the  council  chambers 
and  hearths  of  the  warriors  and  statesmen,  whose 
sentiments  they  record,  become  easily  accessible  and 
familiar  ground.  The  writers  themselves,  no  longer 
invested  with  the  pomp  of  epic  grandeur,  or  viewed 
as  "  giants  of  mighty  bone  and  high  emprise,"  shrink 
from  their  legendary  dimensions,  and  stand  before 
us  with  all  the  ordinary  passions  and  follies  of  huma- 
nity distinctly  revealed.  The  mouldering  urn,  and 
the  solitary  mound,  give  up  their  included  dust  to 
consistency  and  life.  The  busy  scenes  exhibited  in 
the  streets  or  provinces  of  imperial  Rome,  while  in 
the  zenith  of  its  power,  again  arise  like  gorgeous 
visions  produced  by  the  spell  of  the  necromancer ;  and 
so  vivid  is  the  picture  thus  presented  of  the  drama, 
in  which  those,  upon  whose  tombs  the  suns  of  nearly 
twenty  centuries  have  gone  down,  were  the  principal 
actors,  that  we  are  reminded  by  it  of  the  fabled 
city  of  Eastern  Romance ;  in  which,  although  ages 
have  passed,  since  its  name  and  the  cause  of  its  de- 
struction ceased  to  have  a  place  in  the  memory  of 
man,  the  traveller  may  perceive,  within  its  silent 
dwellings,  or  occupying  its  long- deserted  ways,  a 
numerous  population,  whose  marble  forms  yet  retain 
the  attitude  and  expression  in  which  they  were  over- 
taken by  the  same  mysterious  agency  ;  and  are  still 
apparently  engaged  in  the  stirring  employments  of 
active  existence. 


\ 


w 


The  observations,  which  have  been  already  made, 
with  regard  to  the  philosophical  writings  of  the  first  of 
Roman  moralists,  may  also  be  considered,  to  a  great 
extent,  applicable  to  his  oratory ;  which  bears  much 
the  same  relation  to  that  of  his  celebrated  model 
Demosthenes,  as  the  principal  Latin  Epic  to  the  Iliad 
of  Homer.  Singularly  adapted  to  impress  or  to  per- 
suade ;  of  faultless  elegance  ;  and  not  unfrequently 
arrayed  with  irresistible  strength,  it  is  still,  for  the 
most  part,  inferior  in  free  and  natural  power,  as  well 
as  in  lofty  and  successful  daring,  to  that  by  which 
the  Athenian  endeavoured  to  rouse  the  slumbering 
energies  of  his  countrymen  against  the  insidious 
policy  of  the  Macedonian  oppressor.  The  presence 
of  art  is  perceptible  in  the  modulation  of  almost  every 
cadence,  in  the  structure  of  every  climax  and  anti- 
thesis ;  and,  with  all  his  oratorical  excellences,  the 
Roman  frequently  falls  short  of  the  highest— that  of 
uniting  simplicity  of  means  with  beauty  of  effect, 
and  of  leading  captive  the  minds  of  his  readers,  by 
an  unostentatious  force.  If  perfect  in  harmonious 
arrangement,  moreover,  this  minor  excellence  is  some- 
times gained  at  the  expense  of  a  higher  merit.  The 
sublimity — the  nervousness— the  concentration  of  ex- 
pression—which in  the  orations  of  Demosthenes  make 
such  effectual  way  to  the  feelings,  are  much  more 
rarely  exhibited  in  those  of  his  rival  in  renown  ; 
which  reflecting  to  our  imagination  the  character  of 
the  locality  in  which  they  were  composed,  seem  ob- 
viously to  have  been  meditated  rather  beside  the 
sunny  porticoes  and  whispering  woods  of  Tusculum, 
than  amidst  the  hoarse  dashing  of  the  waves  upon  the 
moles  of  the  Peireeus,  or  the  tumult  of  billows  upon 
the  Sunian  shore.  It  may  be  added,  that  the  great 
principles  to  which  the  orator  of  Athens  so  largely 
and  successfully  has  recourse,  were  evidently  more 
partially  appreciated  by  Cicero,  whose  forensic  habits 


i 


348 


THE    LIFE   OP   CICERO. 


I 

I 


seem  to  have  somewhat  limited,  as  was  natural,  his 
views  as  an  enlightened  statesman,  and  to  have  in- 
duced him  constantly  to  regard  in  connexion   with 
party,  what  ought  to  have  been  considered  in  rela- 
tion to    the  whole  human   race.     In  the  hands   of 
Demosthenes,  the  cause  of  Athens   is  the  cause  of 
freedom,  of  civilisation,   of  mankind  at  large;   the 
voice  of  the  orator  appeals  to  sentiments  as  universal 
as  the  elements,  and  as  constant  as  the  laws  of  their 
operation.     With  Cicero,  the  cause  of  liberty  is  too 
often  that  of  the  senate  and  aristocracy  of  Rome ; 
the    re-establishment    of    which    would    not    have 
relieved  the  provinces,  groaning  under  the  weight  of 
her   intolerable   exactions,  from   a  single  impost,  or 
stopped  for  a  moment  the  march  of  her  victorious 
legions,  on  their  way  to  fresh  conquests.     The  former 
history  of  his  country,  again,  supplied  the  Greek  with 
a  lofty  imagery,  from  which  the  Latin  was  necessarily 
debarred.   The  glories  of  the  time  when  Athens  stood 
forth  as  the  champion  of  every  sacred  principle,  in 
her  memorable  contest  with  the  setvile  ignorance  and 
barbaric  force  of  the  Persian  monarchs,  shed  a  con- 
stant lustre  upon  his  energetic  exhortations  ;  and  the 
reminiscences  of  that  illustrious  era  in  the  history  of 
the  world,  throng  around  him  at  his  lightest  sum- 
mons.    To  the  Roman  no  such  resources  were  avail- 
able.   From  the  earliest  period  of  her  existence,  Rome 
had  been  the  oppressor,  not  the  deliverer,  of  nations  ; 
those  who  had  fallen  around  her  standards,  had  fallen 
in  the  attempt  to  rivet  the  yoke  upon  such  as  had 
never  known  its  weight,  not  to  raise  it  from  the  necks 
of  the  enthralled;  and  had  Cicero  wished,  at  any  time, 
to  imitate  the  sublime  enthusiasm  of  the  great  master 
of  his  art,  who  swears  by  the  memory  of  those  who 
were  the  foremost  to  peril  themselves  upon  the  plains 
of  Marathon,  the  whole  sei-ies  of  metrical  annals  at 
his  command,  as  well  as  the  legendary  books  of  the 


THE    LIFE    OF    CICERO.  549 

ministers  of  his  religion,  would  have  been  searched  in 
vain  for  a  parallel  to  the  cited  precedent. 

Yet  whatever  the  place  which  various  tastes  and 
differing  judgment  may  assign  to  Cicero  among 
the  leading  spirits  of  Antiquity,  that  he  is  entitled 
to  rank  with  the  greatest  in  intellect  of  former 
times,  admits  of  no  controversy.  Nor  will  his  claims 
upon  the  gratitude  of  later  generations  be  easily 
controverted,  or  speedily  forgotten.  That  the  revival 
of  the  study  of  his  writings  in  the  Middle  Ages,  did 
much  to  refine  the  minds  of  men  to  whom  they  were, 
with  almost  a  pardonable  exclusiveness,  presented ; 
and  to  induce  those  habits  of  candid  inquiry,  and 
thorough  investigation,  from  which  such  extensive 
benefits  are  derived  to  the  present  hour,  and  will,  in 
all  probability,  continue  to  flow  till  the  end  of  time, 
may  possibly  be  considered  no  mean  reason  for  re- 
garding his  memory  with  respect.  That  his  produc- 
tions enlivened,  to  a  great  extent,  the  gloom  and 
tedium  of  monastic  solitude,  when  few  other  re- 
sources were  available  for  the  purpose,  and  in  those 
Gothic  piles  whose  external  beauty  constituted  the 
only  lingering  reminiscence  of  genius,  tended,  in  some 
measure,  to  nourish  the  intellectual  life  which  was 
stagnating  and  corrupting  amidst  circumstances  so 
unfavourable  to  its  continuance,  may  be  mentioned 
as  a  minor  demand  upon  our  regard ;  as  well  as  the 
pleasure  which  the  stores  of  his  eloquence  have  long 
afforded  to  the  rising  generation  of  Europe,  no  less 
than  of  regions  traversed  in  his  day  by  "rivers 
unknown  to  song,"  and  whose  wastes  were  as  far 
beyond  the  dreams  as  they  were  beyond  the  reach  of 
Roman  conquests.  In  his  own  country,  the  recollec- 
tion of  his  name  occurs  almost  at  every  step,  in  a 
land  thickly  strown  with  mementoes  of  departed 
greatness.  The  stupendous  political  fabric,  to  the 
maintenance  of  which  his  life  was  devoted,  and  which . 


S50 


THE   LIFE   OF    CICERO. 


in  his  works  is  fondly  characterised  as  eternal,  has 
long  ceased  to  exist ;  but  the  green  shores  of  Cam- 
pania, and  the  wooded  crests  of  the  Alban  hills,  are 
yet  consecrated  to  his  honour.  On  that  formerly 
imperious  Metropolis,  the  queen  and  arbitress  of  the 
earth,  the  signs  of  ruin  are  deeply  engraven.  The 
gilded  roofs  of  the  Capitol,  once  shining  like  a  ma- 
jestic diadem  above  the  city  which  they  adorned, 
have  for  ages  crumbled  into  dust ;  the  stately  priest, 
with  the  attendant  virgin,  ascends  the  hundred  steps 
to  the  shrines  of  his  fabled  gods  no  more ;  the  grass 
waves  rank  in  the  deserted  Forum,  and  the  shattered 
and  time-worn  column  speaks  alone  of  those  mag- 
nificent edifices  inscribed  to  Concord,  or  the  Thun- 
dering Jove,  in  which  assembled  senates  once  sat  to 
deliberate  on  the  destinies  of  subject  kings ;  yet  the 
voice  of  the  orator  still  seems  to  dwell  upon  the  ear 
of  the  traveller — 


it, 


And  still  the  eloquent  air  breathes,  huros  of  Cicero." 


Such  is  the  exalted  power  of  Intelligence,  the  dis- 
tinguishing prerogative  of  Mind;— the  survivor  of 
violence — the  victor  of  decay — unaltered  by  the  lapse 
of  successive  generations  ;  and  while  the  features  of 
the  material  world,  no  less  than  the  monuments 
reared  by  the  hands  of  its  fleeting  inhabitants,  exhibit 
marks  of  change,  continuing  to  wear  its  first  aspect 
of  fresh  and  imperishable  beauty. 


THE    END. 


WORKS 


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3.  BUFFON'S  NATURAL  HISTORY  of  the  GLOBE 
and  of  MAN  ;  BEASTS,  BIRDS,  FISHES,  and  INSECTS. 
A  New  Edition,  corrected  and  enlarged.  By  John  Wright, 
F.Z.S. 


LONDON  : 
BRADBURY   AND    EVANS,    FRINTERA,    WHITRPRIARS. 


i 


Works  published  by  Thomas  Tegg. 


MEADOWS'  NUGENT'S  DICTIONARY.— In  one  vol.  18mo.,  the 
Sixth  Edition,  price  78.  in  cloth  boards,  or  bound,  7s.  6d. 

4.  MEADOWS'  NEW  FRENCH  and  ENGLISH 
PRONOUNCING  DICTIONARY,  on  the  basis  of  Nugent's, 
with  many  new  words  in  general  use,  in  Two  Parts  :  French 
and  English — English  and  French;  exhibiting  the  Pronunci- 
ation of  the  French  in  pure  English  sounds,  the  Parts  of  Speech, 
Gender  of  French  Nouns,  regular  and  irregular  Conjugation  of 
Verbs,  and  Accent  of  English  Words.  To  which  is  prefixed. 
Principles  of  French  Pronunciation,  and  an  abridged  Grammar. 
By  F.  C.  Meadows,  M.A.  of  the  University  of  Paris. 

WATSON'S  HISTORY  OF  PHILIP  II.  AND  III. 

Handsomely  printed  in  Octavo,  price  88.  each,  bound  in  cloth. 

5.  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REIGN  OF  PHILIP 
THE  SECOND,  King  of  Spain.  By  Robert  Watson,  LL.D. 
The  Seventh  Edition.  Also,  printed  uniformly,  the  History 
OF  THE  Rkign  of  Philip  THE  Third,  by  the  same  Author. 

JOHNSON'S  DICTIONARY,  DIAMOND  EDITION.— In  one  very 
small  volume,  price  28.  6d.  bound  in  embossed  roan,  printed  with 
a  beautiful  diamond  type. 

6.  JOHNSON'S  POCKET  DICTIONARY  of  the 
ENGLISH  LANGUAGE,  equally  improved  by  an  augmen- 
tation of  some  thousand  words  and  technical  terms  :  sub- 
joined is  a  concise  Classical  Mythology  ;  a  list  of  Men  of  learn- 
ing and  genius  ;  Phrases  from  various  langus^es  ;  and  transla- 
tions of  the  Mottoes  of  the  Nobility,  &c. 

SALLUSTII  OPERA— ANTHON  AND  BOYD'S  EDITION.— In 

duodecimo,  price  5s.  in  boards,  or  5s.  6d.  bound, 

7.  SALLUST ;  with  ENGLISH  NOTES.— By  C.  An- 
THON,  LL.D.  The  fifth  Edition,  with  additional  Annotations 
and  Examination  Questions,  by  T.  Boyd,  LL.D.,  one  of  the 
Masters  of  the  High  School,  Edinburgh. 

In  this  edition  the  Notes  are  placed  at  the  foot  of  each  page, 
translations  of  diflScult  passages  introduced,  and  examination 
questions  given  at  the  end,  to  render  more  available  the  geogra- 
phical and  historical  information  which  the  learned  Editor  has 
accumulated  in  illustration  of  his  Author. 


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